#/ did i put way too much thought into this? yes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gifsbysimplysonia · 1 day ago

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Many thanks to @buckets-and-trees for putting this one on my dash.

Something @witchywithwhiskey is SO well versed at is environment building? I don't feel like that's the correct phrase, but I also can't come up with the right one lol. I'm not as good with words as they are :P But the entire opening of this story is so full of vibrant, rich sensory detail that I saw the whole thing play out like the opening credits of one of my beloved Hallmark / Netflix romance movies. Gritty sandy sidewalks, the sound of waves being a soundtrack to the walk, feeling her bathing suit digging into her skin and her thighs chafing (as a fat gal, I know that one well) under her dress. It was all just SO VIVID because the descriptions are so well written and I love being immediately immersed in Brambleberry Cove (how cute is that for a seaside small town name too, btw).

Seeing Steve Rogers for the first time in over 15 years made something loosen in your chest, anxiety uncoiling from around your heart and shaking free for the first time in a long time. A sense of safety and comfort washed over you, and you had the sudden thought that this was how you were supposed to feel about coming home.

When I tell y'all I screamed into my pumpkin pillow at these lines because ... I struggle so much with describing emotion, no doubt because I am not good at feeling or processing it myself, right? LOL but this description of feeling safe and comfortable and the revelation that THIS is what coming home feels like...refer back to the GIF cuz omgggggggggggggggggg. So good.

The kids, a boy and a girl, both stared up at him with wide eyes, shyness and wonder clear in their twin expressions. They looked to their parents for permission before shyly revealing what flavors they’d like to try. Steve gave a deep, hearty chuckle at their timidness, and complimented them on their choices, which seemed to make them both loosen up a bit.

All of the physical description of Steve is TOP TIER but I love this moment being observed because it's one of those times where I feel like canon Steve comes through in someone's characterization of him. Steve being inherently good at noticing and respecting how shy or nervous people are - especially kids - and knowing how to ease that? Yes. All the yes. That is so Steve Rogers.

But you couldn’t leave without talking to him. Not when he was right there and it had been so long and you were dying to know everything that he’d done in the last 15 years since you saw him last.

This makes me giggle because I, too, would be TERRIFIED of talking to THE Steve Rogers - let alone a Steve Rogers I had grown up with - but my nosy ass would want to know EVERYTHINGGGGG I'd missed with him lol

“Hey there, buttercup,” Steve rumbled, his tone as friendly and familiar as it had always been. All of a sudden, it felt like no time had passed at all.

THE WAY I WOULD POOF INTO THANOS DUST IF THAT VOICE CALLED ME BY THAT NICKNAME, GOOD LORDT.

Still, a thought needled you as you stood across the counter from Steve—the knowledge that if you did let yourself break down and cry, he wouldn’t hesitate to fold you into that broad chest of his, wrapping you up in his thick arms and holding you so securely, the world might not seem so grim anymore.

It's crazy to me lol cuz I am someone who will deny deny deny how I feel to my own detriment. But I'm reading about this person who actually ALREADY KNOWS HOW SHE FEELS from every observation she's had about Steve since she entered Seaside Scoops ... but I guess only subconsciously? But it's so funny to see the juxtaposition of her thoughts and feelings but then her logic coming in and trying to be like, I don't know why I am feeling these feelings. YES YOU DO, MISS, YES YOU DO.

You chalked it up to nostalgia and the rough time you were having, forcing yourself to take a deep breath and paste on a bright smile.

Having been in this position myself (and going through it again now in Q4 of 2024), I so badly want to hug her because she feels as though she has to hide how she's really doing and really feeling. But oh man, do I get it.

Steve is also still drawing in this 'Verse cuz the Seaside Scoops mascot is a shark Steve drew FOR HER back when she knew him originally and I THINK THAT IS SO PRECIOUS! I kind of want to commission someone to actually draw it now, hmmmmmmm.

“Is a dipped twist still your favorite?” he asked, clearly trying to change the subject and your smile dimmed just a little. The Steve you’d known had been shy about showing his art to anyone but you, and it seemed that you’d been gone long enough to be lumped in with everyone else.

I want to die at how cute he is cuz this Steve still can't take a compliment, still has a memory like a steel trap, and a habit of making people feel special with his thoughtfulness. There's intimacy in someone knowing your order of anything, really ... ice cream, coffee, meal at the corner diner. And it's noticing deets that REALLY resonates with me and makes me melt as a reader *screams into my pumpkin pillow again*

You and Steve weren’t friends anymore, and you needed to accept that. It was unreasonable to hold him to a promise he’d made more than two decades ago, especially when you were the one who’d left and had barely tried to stay in touch between college classes and exploring your new city.

*sing song voice* hate thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis lol I don't know why on earth she didn't keep up her promise to stay in touch and stay friends with Steve but it makes me want to step on her stubbed toe >:P I get that "life happens," but as someone who felt like the one always following up with friends when they went off to live another life, I just ... he deserved better.

For a long moment, you simply stared at each other. Steve really had grown up and changed so much, the evidence in the weathered grooves of his forehead and the lines between his brows, but his eyes still looked the same—soft as clouds, warm as the summer sun.

It's the continued reference to elements that remind me of the town and the summertime to describe him that I am so enjoying.

For a long moment, you couldn’t get over the way Steve had been able to read your mind, to pluck the thought that you were strangers to each other out of your brain and then tell you he didn’t want that to be the case. Your mind raced with questions. Did he still think of you as friends? Did he remember the promise you’d made all those years ago to always be friends? How did he know the exact right thing to say? But then the rational side of your brain resurfaced from wherever your heart had momentarily buried it, and you remembered his farewell was a normal thing for people to say to each other. Especially people who hadn’t seen each other in a while and likely would again because they both lived in a very small town. That’s all it was, just a normal goodbye. Not Steve Rogers somehow reading your mind because he knew you so well.

The longing? Is killing me. It's delicious but she KEEPS TALKING HERSELF OUT OF WHAT'S GOING ON which makes me want to again, stomp on her stubbed toe lol

Your mood was decidedly better, and you enjoyed the walk home, refusing to think too much about why exactly you felt lighter and happier and less miserable about being home in Brambleberry Cove than you had before going to Seaside Scoops. It was just the ice cream, obviously. There was no other reason.

"There was no other reason."

Me:

It was probably for the best, though. You were drunk and horny and if you weren’t careful, you would’ve gone home with Brock Rumlow. Just thinking about it made you grimace at yourself and your poor almost-decisions.

EW, GURL, EW. Thank you, Bucky, for saving her from that and calling Steve.

The fact Steve is driving her home in his truck and there's reference to the salty sea air as well as the smell of the leathery interior of his truck is once again SO GOOD. I was immediately inside that truck, staring at Steve's profile myself, feeling what I also imagine is a not-so-smooth ride cuz I'm imagining an older truck lol Again, the sensory detail work is top notch.

She is BLITZED and saying all her inside thoughts out loud which at first makes Steve laugh but then when she talks about how he looks different but the same cuz his eyes are the same and the bump in his nose is still there and his lips are soft and full ... oof! The mood SHIFTS. Cuz he's like, yeah nobody else even saw those things BUTTERCUP *swoon* and in her drunkenness, she's all indignant and says well then they never really saw YOU, Steve and I am SCREAMINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG cuz OMG GURL JUST SAY YOU LOVE HIM ALREADY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But Steve's response made me have to jump up out of my bed and take a lap around the couch cuz

“No, no one ever saw me as well as you did, buttercup,” Steve said, his voice low and warm, and your heart promptly rioted in your chest.

THIS. IS. A. ROMANCE. MOVIE! I'm TELLING you! It has all the correct beats!

There was something so dizzyingly wonderful about hearing Steve say such intimate words to you in that deep, caramel voice of his, genuine affection shining through his tone. It took your breath away for a moment, and your brain short-circuited.

All of this makes me think, ok we are about to get INTO it but everything takes a TURN. Cuz we find out they already had sex once. I guess it was both their first times and Steve, bless his heart, finished in 3 seconds. Because of that, he asked Bucky if it counted cuz he wasn't sure, and homegirl is PISSED at this revelation for some reason. It's a WILD turn.

“Don’t you dare,” you snarled, the words bursting out of you with a ferocity you’d never used in your life, let alone when talking to Steve. But you were furious all of a sudden, and it wasn’t until the words were spilling from your mouth that you understood why you were so angry. “Don’t you dare try to take this away from me, Steven Grant Rogers.” Your voice was seething and barely recognizable, but you couldn’t stop. “You were my first, and it was perfect—because it was you.”

The way I legit sat here clutching my pillow like ... not knowing what to do for a good 30 seconds after reading this. Cuz of course she has to be DRUNK to reveal exactly how she feels about him, right? But that she is so VEHEMENTLY ANGERED by Steve inadvertently almost taking away "credit" or whatever? It's insane! Like, what more do we need to know she is IN LOVE WITH HIM?!?!

But crazily, we don't get into THAT conversation, they continue arguing about their first time lol! He insists she deserved better, she reveals he went down on her and gave her 3 orgasms which ... way to go, sir lol

The silence grew until it was suffocating, and you needed to break it. So you said the first thing that came to mind. Again. “You’re who I think about when I touch myself, Steve.” Your words drifted from your side of the truck to the other, carried on the light breeze floating through the cab. “I think about you and that night, and it gets me off every single time.”

The way I expected him to HIT THE DAMN BRAKES and them to go off a cliff at this point because THAT IS THE REACTION THIS CONFESSION DESERVES!

Instead, he tells her he thinks about her too so she undoes her seatbelt and almost makes him crash lol but he pulls over then REFUSES to give into the gorgeous woman literally BEGGING HIM FOR JUST THE TIP because ... Steve Rogers will not do that with someone who is drunk which is SO GEE DEE STEVE ROGERS it makes me wanna hug him and then kick him in the shins lol

Steve’s hand slid down from your cheek to wrap around the front of your throat, and you stilled immediately, something about the possessive, dominant gesture making you calm. That was new, Steve hadn’t done anything like that when you’d first been together, but you liked it more than you would’ve expected.

Nothing like when a kink comes out of NOWHERE to slap me in the face. LORDT.

“I won’t fuck you only to wake up tomorrow and find out you regret it,” Steve said, enunciating all his words clearly despite the fact that his teeth were grinding together “That you only wanted it because you needed to scratch an itch. When I fuck you again,” he growled, his words a promise. “I don’t want you drunk on anything but my cock.”

Damn him for making nobility so hawt but also vocalizing how much he actually WOULD LIKE TO BE PHYSICAL WITH HER cuz straight up rejection could hurt if he didn't add that in.

You wanted to hear every flavor of your nickname on Steve’s tongue. You wanted to hear him whisper it like a prayer, and groan it into your lips while he kissed you. You wanted to hear Steve shout your nickname while he came with you.

That whole section is just deliciously written.

What follows and I will not quote because y'all NEED TO GO READ IT FOR YOURSELVES is SUCH a ride. Because Steve won't pursue anything physical but he tells her, he holds no qualms about her pursuing her own pleasure...while in his lap...WITH HIS HAND AROUND HER THROAT.

THENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN THEN THENNNNNNNNNNNNNNN he starts dirty talking and CHEESE AND RICE, Y'ALL! Better have your own pillow or sound absorbing something to use when reading this section cuz it is soooooooooooooooooooooooo

Cuz then SHE also starts voicing FILTHY thoughts and the give and take between the two is so incredibly fire. *fans self* I was literally sweating.

Eventually things wrap up and gentleman that Steve is, he takes her back to her rental and hangs out to ensure she gets in bed ok.

“I don’t regret anything we’ve done together, Stevie,” you mumbled, the side of your mouth hitching up in a lopsided smile. “I’m glad you were my first.” You lost the battle with your eyes and they fell closed. You also, apparently, lost the fight against biting back your feelings, murmuring sleepily, “I want you to be my last.” For a long moment, Steve was quiet. He seemed to wait until you were just on the edge of sleep before responding to your drunken confession. “Tell me that again when you’re not drunk, and I’ll believe you, buttercup,” Steve murmured, ducking down to press a kiss to your hand, still wrapped loosely around his wrist, before carefully extricating himself.

THIS IS A ROMANCE MOVIE, YOU GUYS, I'M TELLING YOUUUUUUU. The way it so vividly plays in my mind.

I know not to be that reader that demands more or anything like that, but in the A/N it was expressed that this was an idea that has been with the author for a while and they just don't know if they will ever get to flesh it out completely. But I feel like we have 2 really full acts here ALREADY so there only needs to be one more ... it's such a rich setting, Steve is such a fully developed character already, and their relationship and this being second chance romance (which I am SO obsessed with right now) ... it's just something I REALLY REALLY enjoyed. Beautifully done, and actually because the almost sex is as hot as it is, it's actually a movie that has to be done for PASSIONFLIX so we don't get fade to black lol

@witchywithwhiskey this is a masterpiece and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for writing and sharing. As someone trying to write my own second chance romance, I feel like a lot of this is a master lesson in how to do it WELL. And of course thanks again to Aspen for putting it on my dash to begin with. It's one I know I'm going to revisit often (and have a few times already).

first and last

pairing: childhood best friend!steve rogers x female reader

summary: after more than a decade away from your home town—and your childhood best friend—you return. everything is exactly the same, but also, entirely different.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), fluff, angst, smut, drunken antics, some arguing, drunk masturbation (f) with an audience, semi-public, choking, dirty talk, praise kink, begging, boundaries, very light bdsm vibes, references to past sexual intimacy (piv sex, oral sex [f receiving]), nicknames (buttercup, baby), aftercare

word count: 8.8k

a/n: this is my entry in @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar Challenge, and i've been working on it since june so i'm very excited to post it!!! i wanted to make a sundae i'd actually eat so i used the prompts Butterscotch (childhood friends) and Caramel (drunk/delirious/not in their right mind). it also might be a bit literal to have Steve working at an ice cream shop but whatever!!

i mentioned when i teased this fic that i'd thought about turning it into a much longer story/potentially saving it for a novel, but honestly i just don't know when or if i'll ever have time to do that. but these scenes don't necessarily follow right after each other, so if they feel disconnected, that's why. they're just the ones i wanted to write 😅

The sidewalk of Brambleberry Cove was warm from a full day under the August sun, the concrete gritty with sand beneath your bare feet as you walked the rest of the short distance to Seaside Scoops from your rental house a few blocks away.

The sun dipped low on the western horizon, casting long shadows over the coastal town like stretching fingers reaching for the Atlantic Ocean. You could hear the steady sound of the crashing waves over the near distant sand dunes, their rhythm a background to your walk.

It could’ve been a peaceful moment—you were back in your home town, surrounded by familiar sights and sounds and smells. But you were in a wretched mood, and all you could focus on was everything wrong with the world and your current place in it.

There was, of course, the throbbing pain in your big toe from when you’d stubbed it moments ago on the cursed, charming sidewalk, as well as the slight sting on the sides of your foot where your flip flop straps had torn. Your ruined shoes dangled from your fingers because Brambleberry Cove didn’t have a trash can on every street corner like the city you were accustomed to living in.

In addition to those grievances, the straps of your bathing suit—which you hadn’t worn in far too long and hadn’t realized had become too small—were digging into your shoulders and hips uncomfortably. And, though you’d only been walking for five minutes from the little bungalow you were renting, your thighs were already beginning to chafe beneath the simple dress you’d thrown on.

All told, you were not in the mood to appreciate the simple beauty of Brambleberry Cove. Instead of admiring the sun-bleached cottages that gave way to the small coastal shops lining main street, and letting yourself sink into the comfort of being back in your tiny beachside home town, you were fixated on everything wrong in your life—both in that moment and the larger scheme of things.

In your defense, though, there was a lot wrong in your life. There’d had to be to get you back to your home town after so long away.

There was the dream job you’d lost, the ex who’d left you for someone else, and the friends who’d all promised to be there for you, but then vanished when you actually needed help. The only people who’d come through for you were your parents, who’d had a friend willing to rent a little Brambleberry Cove bungalow to you for a fraction of its normal summer price since it was already August and they weren’t going to make much more money anyway.

You’d had to pack up and leave the city where you’d built your life for 15 years, and move back to your home town, which you hadn’t seen in nearly that long since your parents had moved out west shortly after you’d graduated high school. Being back home made you feel like you weren’t only taking a single step backward, but moving leaps and bounds in the wrong direction. It made you feel like a failure.

But you tried not to think about all that on your short walk to Seaside Scoops, instead focusing on the pain in your toe and the digging ache of your bathing suit.

By the time you saw the familiar neon sign for the ice cream shop, it felt like finding an oasis in the desert. You picked up your pace, ignoring the way your body protested, the soles of your feet no longer used to walking on the sandy sidewalk like you’d done countless times growing up in Brambleberry Cove.

You could see through the window that there was a short line in Seaside Scoops, and you hurriedly pushed through the door of the shop. Once inside, you breathed in the familiar scent of sugar and hot fudge and reveled in the feel of the air conditioner ghosting over your sun-warmed shoulders.

Surreptitiously, you shoved your ruined flip flops into the garbage just inside the door and got in line behind the couple with their two small children. You glanced around the shop, not really taking it in, and hoped whoever was working behind the counter was still lax on the ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ rule that had theoretically been in place since before you were born—but had never been enforced in practice.

Finally looking to the counter, wondering idly if you’d recognize who was working or if it’d be some local teen that had been a baby the last time you’d been to Brambleberry Cove, you were shocked to see who was working at Seaside Scoops. Your belly swooped like you were standing on a boat on the choppy sea, your heart racing when you recognized the man behind the counter. At one time, he’d been the boy you’d shared so much of your childhood with, so many of your summers with.

When you got a good look at him, you were almost surprised you recognized him so fast. He was no longer the scrawny teenager you’d left behind when you’d gone off to college and never looked back. He looked so different from the boy you’d known well enough you could recall his face in perfect detail, but, in so many ways, exactly the same.

On the whole, it was a shock to see the man Steve Rogers had become.

Sandy brown hair fell on either side of his handsome, suntanned face, swept back like he had a habit of running his hands through it countless times a day. A short, well-kept beard decorated his strong jaw, bracketing a set of soft pink lips that were curved in a devastating grin. His bright blue eyes sparkled beneath the fluorescent lights of the shop, and when he spoke to the family in front of you in line, his voice rumbled like the distant roar of the ocean.

But you shoved that thought aside and continued your perusal of your childhood best friend, making note of all the ways he’d changed from the boy you’d known.

Thick, golden biceps were bare and bulging beneath the edge of his white t-shirt, and dense, brown hair covered corded forearms as Steve folded his arms on top of the ice cream case. He was tall—tall enough to lean over the case to talk to the kids with the couple in front of you, asking them about their favorite ice cream flavors and if they’d like to try anything new.

Inexplicable heat flushed through your body at the sound of Steve’s deep laughter, and the easiness with which he interacted with the kids. You’d never been particularly good with children, mainly because you’d never had much of a chance to interact with any, and you’d never felt any particular desire to be around them. But seeing Steve looking like he did talking to those kids made your belly swoop again and something inside you pulse with a need you didn’t want to fully unpack.

Shoving those thoughts into a box in the back corner of your mind, you forced yourself to look away from your childhood friend and up at the menu that listed all the ice cream flavors. You’d been to Seaside Scoops hundreds of times in your life, if not thousands, and, at one time, you’d had the list memorized.

Hopefully you still had that knowledge tucked away somewhere in your brain, because you weren’t taking in anything you were reading as you not-so-patiently waited for Steve to finish up with the customers in front of you.

It felt like forever, and by the time the family took their cups and cones of ice cream toward the side door that opened up into an outdoor seating area, you’d already cycled through three rounds of the same argument with yourself about why you should leave Seaside Scoops without talking to Steve. You couldn’t imagine your first conversation in 15 years going well.

Still, it took you a few extra seconds to gather the courage to lower your eyes from the menu board and finally look at your childhood friend. When you did, your gaze caught immediately on Steve’s, and your heart gave a little flip at the devastatingly charming smile on his impossibly handsome face.

“Hey there, buttercup,” Steve rumbled, his tone as friendly and familiar as it had always been. All of a sudden, it felt like no time had passed at all.

“Hi, Steve,” you said, trying for the same casualness he’d achieved, but your voice sounded faint and faraway in your ears. The corners of your mouth flickered in a tremulous smile.

You couldn’t understand the surge of emotion filling your chest and rising in your throat, pricking at the backs of your eyes like you wanted to throw yourself into your oldest friend’s arms and sob about everything wrong in your life.

The same deluge of emotion had hit you when you’d stubbed your toe on your walk to Seaside Scoops and you’d had to stand there by yourself, sucking in deep breaths of salty Brambleberry Cove air, nails biting into the flesh of your palms to keep yourself from breaking down.

Just as you’d done then, you beat back the emotion, blinking your eyes rapidly to rid them of tears. Still, a thought needled you as you stood across the counter from Steve—the knowledge that if you did let yourself break down and cry, he wouldn’t hesitate to fold you into that broad chest of his, wrapping you up in his thick arms and holding you so securely, the world might not seem so grim anymore.

You chalked it up to nostalgia and the rough time you were having, forcing yourself to take a deep breath and paste on a bright smile. Casting your eyes around Seaside Scoops, you pretended to give the place a real look, though you didn’t really notice much as you continued to blink back tears.

“You work here now?” you asked lightly, looking at the new standee in the corner.

It was a cartoon shark holding up a sign advertising Seaside Scoops and their many ice cream flavors. But what caught your eye was that it looked a bit like the shark Steve had drawn for you when you’d gotten a bad grade sophomore year and wanted to cheer you up. It even had the same little sailor hat sitting perched on top of his head—which only made sense because sharks didn’t have blowholes, he’d told you at the time.

You’d smiled then, and you smiled again remembering it.

“Uhh,” Steve started, and you turned tear-free eyes back on your old friend, your gaze drawn to the way his bicep bulged against the sleeve of his t-shirt as he scuffed the back of his neck. There was a little bit of a sheepish tinge to his smile. “I actually own Scoops now,” he said in a rush, like he was confessing to something, though you couldn’t imagine what. “I bought it when Mr. Wallace retired down to Florida.”

“Oh,” was all you could think to say, glancing around the ice cream shop with a keener eye.

The shark standee wasn’t the only new thing in the place. Everything, from the tables and chairs to the menu board and counter, looked slightly newer than you remembered. Nothing was wildly different, which was why you hadn’t noticed it when you first looked around. Everything just looked better than it should if it had aged a decade since you’d last stepped into the shop.

Something about it made you think Seaside Scoops looked exactly like your memory of it—but the polished, perfect version in your head, instead of the place as it had been. Yellowed with age and a lack of upkeep. It was genuinely astounding what Steve had done with the place and it took you a few moments to find the right words, though they still felt pale in comparison to the bittersweet nostalgia in your heart.

“The place looks great,” you said with a half smile as you turned back to Steve. A small thread of pride wormed through your heart at seeing what your oldest friend had accomplished and your smile widened when he brightened under your praise. “I like the shark,” you said, hooking a thumb over your shoulder at the standee.

A bit of pink tinted Steve’s cheeks above his beard, and he cleared his throat.

You swallowed back a lump in your throat and nodded. “Yeah, that’s still my favorite,” you answered, more than a little surprised Steve remembered your order.

Sure, you’d gone to Seaside Scoops together countless times as kids. It had been your hangout spot for most of your childhood, and even into your teen years. You’d study together over a cup of cookie dough with sprinkles for Steve and a cone of vanilla and chocolate softserve dipped in chocolate sauce for you. But that was more than a decade ago.

Your heart gave a heavy squeeze when you remembered the night before you’d left Brambleberry Cove, the way Steve reminded you of the promise you’d made as children—that you’d always be friends. Your stomach twisted into knots as you were confronted with the reality that you hadn’t kept up your end of the deal. You’d left, and you’d allowed your oldest friend to become a stranger.

You wondered if Steve remembered the promise you’d made, the reminder he’d given you as a parting gift, or if he’d forgotten. You wondered if he’d ever want to be friends again.

Steve’s back was to you, his wrist flicking expertly beneath the softserve machine as he filled up a sugar cone with the twist of chocolate and vanilla. You forced yourself to push aside the memories of the past, blinking back more tears before Steve could catch them in your eyes.

With a great amount of effort, you kept your mind blissfully blank as you let your gaze trail idly over Steve’s broad back, unable to stop yourself from noticing just how wide his shoulders were, or the way they moved beneath the soft, worn cotton of his t-shirt. He really did fill out the shirt well, his sides tapering down to a thin waist. And his ass looked particularly good in the curve-hugging denim of his jeans.

As Steve turned around, you raised your eyes quickly and arranged your expression into one of innocence. Steve paused, giving you a shrewd look like he would’ve done when you were teenagers and you were hiding something from him, but then he just shook his head and laughed under his breath, turning to the chocolate sauce where he’d dip your ice cream cone.

“So, what brings you back to Brambleberry Cove, buttercup?” Steve asked, his gaze focusing on dipping your ice cream just right, a look of determination on his face that was endlessly endearing.

You grimaced at the exact moment he glanced up at you, and he chuckled at the face you made. The sound was smooth as warm caramel and sent a new wave of heat rolling down your spine.

“That bad, huh?” he asked, genuine interest in his tone.

Although there was a point in your life when you could’ve told Steve anything, and the urge to do so still lingered deep in your bones, you knew your relationship was different. You couldn’t dump all your problems on your childhood friend after not talking to him for 15 years. You didn’t even know if you were still friends anymore.

Plus, there was a small crowd gathering behind you as the late dinner rush started to filter into Seaside Scoops. Even if you’d wanted to tell Steve everything that had happened to you in the 15 years since you’d last seen him, it wasn’t the time.

So you just gave him a sad smile and accepted the ice cream cone from Steve’s hand, ignoring the butterflies and ticklish warmth that fluttered through your body at his touch. You gripped the sugar cone tight—but not too tight—so you didn’t fumble it.

“Yeah,” you whispered in answer to his question, leaving it at that. There was an awkward beat, and your eyes dropped to the ice cream that was already beginning to melt despite the air conditioning in the shop. Thankfully, you had an easy way to move past Steve’s questions.

You pulled some cash from the wristlet where you’d also stashed your phone and I.D., asking, “What do I owe you?” because you figured it must’ve been more expensive than what you remembered. And you didn’t want to risk looking up at the menu and catching Steve’s eye, not wanting any of the emotions or heat that seemed to flood you whenever you looked at him.

But a large, warm, golden hand closed over your fumbling fingers, startling you enough to look up into the sky blue eyes of your childhood friend. Your lips fell open in surprise as tingling warmth worked its way up your arm from your hand, wrapping around your heart and making it beat harder.

“It’s on the house,” he murmured, his voice low and earnest, the thrum of some emotion you couldn’t identify laced through his words. “It was nice to see an old friend,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze before he pulled his away.

It wasn’t until Steve straightened up to his full height that you realized he’d been leaning over the counter, and your faces had been very close together. Heat crept into your cheeks at the realization that Steve had been in your personal space, and all you’d thought about was his eyes.

Shoving all the money in your hand into the tip jar, you muttered, “Thanks, Steve.” As you zipped up your wristlet, you noticed that some of your ice cream was in danger of dripping onto your hand.

Without thinking, you licked quickly around the edge of the sugar cone, a soft moan slipping free when the cool sweetness of the ice cream hit your brain.

Steve made a strangled sound that dragged your attention away from your treat, finding your childhood best friend looking away and coughing into his fist, a deeper pink flushing his cheeks. You quirked your eyebrow in confusion when he looked back at you, but his expression gave nothing away and you had to wonder if you’d imagined the noise. It had almost sounded…aroused.

Shaking that thought clear from your mind, you gave Steve a smile and began to step away from the counter so he could help the next customer.

Steve’s eyes lingered on you, and he offered you one last charming, friendly smile, raising his hand in a wave. “Don’t be a stranger, buttercup,” he rumbled, his low words managing to reach your ears over the chatter in the shop. He gave you a long look, emotion swirling in those familiar eyes of his, and your breath caught in your throat.

The intensity of his gaze and the warmth in his parting words hit you straight in the gut, and you stood stunned in front of the register while Steve turned and walked to the other end of the ice cream case to help the next people in line.

But then the rational side of your brain resurfaced from wherever your heart had momentarily buried it, and you remembered his farewell was a normal thing for people to say to each other. Especially people who hadn’t seen each other in a while and likely would again because they both lived in a very small town. That’s all it was, just a normal goodbye.

Not Steve Rogers somehow reading your mind because he knew you so well.

With those rationalities ringing in your head, you dashed out of Seaside Scoops and it wasn’t until your feet had carried you to the next block that you remembered your broken shoes and stubbed toe and chafed thighs.

But those problems didn’t seem quite so bad anymore. Not with the delicious ice cream cone in your hand, and the sunset casting Brambleberry Cove in gorgeous, golden light—and especially not with Steve’s warm, honeyed voice ringing in your head, calling you buttercup.

It had felt so normal to hear the nickname roll off Steve’s tongue that you hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t realized how long it had been since you’d last heard it. But, just as it had when you were younger, it filled your chest with a bright, golden warmth. You grinned to yourself as you strolled back to your little bungalow, licking up the melting ice cream as fast as you could.

“You’re staring.” Steve’s voice was low, the undercurrent of laughter in it almost mixing with the sounds of the distant waves. You could hear them through the open windows of his truck as he eased the vehicle down the winding road leading away from the docks on the north side of Brambleberry Cove.

His comment dragged you out of your drunken haze, and you took a deep breath to get your bearings. Your lungs filled with the salty nighttime air of the sea and the earthy leather interior of your childhood best friend’s truck, a small smile curling the corners of your lips and your eyes sliding closed. When you forced them back open, you realized he was right.

Huh, you really were staring at Steve.

Your head was swiveled to the side, your cheek pressed to the brown leather of the seat back, your eyes fixed on the profile of his face that was highlighted in the glossy silver of the moon and warmed by the golden light of the town’s street lamps.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed or ashamed for staring at Steve, though. And it was at that moment you realized you were drunk.

It didn’t surprise you. After all, you were the one who’d thrown on some jean shorts and a cute top and then took yourself to Shanty’s, the only place in Brambleberry Cove to go if you were a local looking to avoid tourists.

You’d been happy to see Bucky Barnes, your other oldest friend after Steve, manning the bar. But you’d been much less happy with him when he’d insisted on calling Steve to take you home after you’d downed more than your fair share of liquor.

Focusing back on Steve, you couldn’t fault Bucky too much for calling your old friend to pick you up—not when it had ended with you able to watch his side profile while he kept his eyes on the road. It felt practically shameful to indulge yourself so much. That is, if you’d had any shame left, but you’d drowned it all in alcohol.

“You’re still staring, buttercup,” Steve rumbled, the humor clearer in his tone. The edges of his mouth were flickering beneath the silvery golden light of Brambleberry Cove at night and you knew he was trying to suppress a smile. It was fascinating to watch, but then Steve rubbed his hand across his mouth, scrubbing through his beard, and it broke you free of your drunken trance.

“I just can’t get over how different you look,” you huffed, raising your arms and flopping them back against the seat in your best approximation of a shrug. “And how exactly the same.”

Steve barked a laugh, the sharp sound bringing a smile instantly to your face. You’d never heard him laugh like that, and you couldn’t help but love that you were still discovering new things about him, even after knowing him all your life.

He glanced over at you, his expression bemused like he was sure you were drunker than he’d thought. You probably were, but that didn’t stop you from being right, and you tried to convey that in the brief moment he looked at you.

Steve’s gaze slid quickly down your body, not like he was checking you out—more like he was checking to make sure your seatbelt was still buckled and you weren’t in danger of doing anything ridiculous. You were only in danger of saying ridiculous things, at least, according to him apparently. He shook his head after he’d turned back to watching the road.

“You’re gonna have to explain that one to me, buttercup,” Steve said, a little bit of gruffness in his tone. He cleared his throat before he went on. “Usually when someone we went to high school with comes back, they tell me they never woulda recognized me.”

You gave an unladylike snort, drawing another surprised laugh out of Steve before he bit off the sound to let you speak.

“Well those people should have their eyes checked,” you muttered scornfully, pushing yourself up from where you’d been slumped against the warm leather seat. You twisted your body in your seat so you were facing Steve, your eyes tracing the lines of his face from across the cab. “You still have the same eyes,” you pointed out vehemently, as if Steve was arguing with you, even though he wasn’t. “And your nose still has that little bump in it, and your lips are still so soft and full…”

You trailed off, realizing far too late that you were saying your inside thoughts out loud. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you watched Steve as he processed what you’d said—the way his fingers scratched a little nervously at his beard, those twin lines forming between his brows. Your gazed traced every curve and line and divot in his face, examining his expression, wanting to memorize it and save it for the rest of your life.

“I don’t think any of those people noticed those things,” Steve murmured, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it over the slight breeze drifting through the windows while he drove through town.

Your heart lurched at the implication of Steve’s words, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take them back, even if they were dangerously close to revealing something you hadn’t even had the courage to admit to yourself yet.

Instead, you focused on your anger at the hypothetical people who weren’t recognizing Steve just because he’d grown up, gotten tall, gotten buff, grown out his hair and his beard and looked altogether very different to the skinny teenager he’d been.

“If they didn’t see those things, they didn’t really see you,” you muttered to yourself, indignant on Steve’s behalf, but trying to keep it to yourself. Apparently, you weren’t good at moderating the volume of your voice, because Steve snorted at your remark.

“No, no one ever saw me as well as you did, buttercup,” Steve said, his voice low and warm, and your heart promptly rioted in your chest.

It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him…something. The thing you hadn’t admitted to yourself yet. But you were still you, and your brain tripped at the last moment, and instead you blurted, “Do you ever think about our first time?”

Steve choked on a snort, his eyes darting to you with honest surprise. You couldn’t blame him. You’d had no idea those words were gonna spill from your mouth until they were out, but you supposed they weren’t as bad as what you’d almost confessed, so you didn’t try to take them back or change the topic of conversation. You waited with bated breath for Steve’s response, and whether he remembered your night together when you were both 18.

When he saw you were anticipating his answer, he spluttered, “You mean when I came three seconds after getting inside you?”

You began to smile, because he remembered, but then Steve continued talking.

“Y’know, I told Bucky about that once,” he said, his eyes fixed so fully on the road that you got the impression he didn’t want to meet your gaze and your stomach plummeted. “I was drunk, and didn’t know if it really counted as sex. Bucky was no help, of course—he said he didn’t know either since it was so quick.”

Something new was swirling in your gut, and for long moments you could only sit there on the warm leather of the truck and stew in that hot, feral feeling. It must’ve showed on your face because, when Steve finally looked over at you after you’d been quiet for so long, the truck lurched forward, his foot pressing too hard to the gas.

“Don’t worry,” he rushed to say, guessing at what was upsetting you and guessing wrong. “I didn’t tell him it was with you.”

“Don’t you dare,” you snarled, the words bursting out of you with a ferocity you’d never used in your life, let alone when talking to Steve. But you were furious all of a sudden, and it wasn’t until the words were spilling from your mouth that you understood why you were so angry. “Don’t you dare try to take this away from me, Steven Grant Rogers.” Your voice was seething and barely recognizable, but you couldn’t stop. ��You were my first, and it was perfect—because it was you.”

Steve glanced over at you, something like shock written across his face, but when he looked back at the road, his brows settled low over his eyes. The muscle in his jaw popped and you knew he was grinding his teeth together, taking his time to gather his thoughts before he spoke. It took him a long moment to respond.

“You deserved better.”

The noise of your scoff was loud, even to your ears, and you strained against the seatbelt still buckling you into the passenger seat as you leaned toward your childhood friend.

“You ate me out until I came three times, Steve!” you cried, holding up three fingers as if the adult man your friend had grown into somehow didn’t know how many three was. “No man has ever made me come so many times in one night as you did then.”

When Steve still didn’t look at you, just kept driving with his hands gripping the wheel and the muscle in his jaw popping, you huffed an exasperated sound and flopped back into your seat. Your back was to the leather as you crossed your arms over your chest and stared out at Brambleberry Cove through the open passenger side window.

The silence grew until it was suffocating, and you needed to break it. So you said the first thing that came to mind. Again.

“You’re who I think about when I touch myself, Steve.” Your words drifted from your side of the truck to the other, carried on the light breeze floating through the cab. “I think about you and that night, and it gets me off every single time.”

Steve made a strangled kind of sound, like a growl that was torn free from his throat against his will. Then he was quiet, and he was quiet for so long, you thought that was the only reaction you’d get to admitting the truth. Until…

“I think about you, too, buttercup.”

The confession hung in the air between you, settling heavily onto the leather bench seat in Steve’s truck, the air rushing in through the open windows buffetting around it.

You didn’t feel Steve’s admission sink into you. There was simply a before and an after. And in the after, you were moving. You were unbuckling your seatbelt and scooting across the seat toward Steve until your bare knee brushed against the denim of his jeans.

He shot a startled look in your direction—which, in a distant part of your brain, you registered as completely adorable—before quickly pulling over to the side of the road. He was just throwing the truck into park when you slid into his lap, straddling his thighs and pressing your chest to his.

“We should do it again,” you purred, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning close. When Steve didn’t respond right away, just kept giving you that surprised look, you thought he might not have understood you, so you explained, “Have sex.”

Steve closed his eyes and a light tremor shuddered through his body as his hands settled respectfully on your waist, a few of his fingers brushing the skin where the edge of your tank top didn’t quite meet the waist of your shorts. Then, it was your turn to shudder, the feeling of his warm, calloused hands against your bare skin making heat flood between your thighs, your core warming and your body melting into your old friend’s hands.

“Please, Steve,” you whispered, tipping your head forward until your lips were a hairsbreadth from his, so close you could taste mint chocolate chip ice cream on his tongue and it took everything in you not to lick into his mouth desperately. Your voice was practically a whine as you went on, “Let’s see if we can do better this time.”

Steve’s hands shifted to your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh hard enough to almost hurt, and you thought he was going to give in. But then he swallowed audibly, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and he pushed you gently away, his head tilting back against the leather seat so your lips no longer teased him with an almost-kiss.

“You’re drunk, buttercup.”

Steve’s voice was a delicious rasp, and you couldn’t help but shiver at the sound of it even as the meaning of his words settled into your drunken mind. You pouted at your childhood friend, hoping the fact that he hadn’t pushed you off his lap entirely meant he wasn’t saying no.

“And horny,” you said, the words slipping from your lips on another whine. Of their own volition, your hips squirmed on your oldest friend’s lap, trying to get closer, trying to find some kind of friction to work against the aching heat pulsing between your thighs. But Steve’s firm grip held you in place. “Stevie.” His name was nothing but a pathetic whimper.

A low growl rumbled in Steve’s chest, and then one of his hands was abandoning your hip to cup your face, tilting it up so he could loom over you. The lines of his face were hard, stubborn, and the look in his eyes left no room for argument.

“You know I won’t touch you when you’re drunk,” he bit out, his voice soft, but as firm as his hold on your body.

A memory slammed into you—you and Steve planning your first time together. You’d made a deal at the start of high school that if neither of you lost your virginity through all four years, then before going off to college, you’d lose it together.

When the time came, you’d been a little nervous, even though it was Steve, and you’d joked that you could take some wine coolers to the beach and get it over with, just like all the other kids in your school. Even then, Steve had looked at you stubbornly, and said, without a shred of willingness to waver, that he wouldn’t touch you if you were drunk.

Back then, it had sent a shiver down your spine, and it had much the same effect more than a decade later in his truck. Your body trembled with arousal, and you pushed feebly against Steve’s hold—not really trying to break it, just enjoying the feeling that came from realizing how strong he was. Those biceps and corded forearms of his weren’t just for show.

“What about just the tip?” you murmured, the words tumbling past your lips before you could think better of them, knowing there was no use trying to argue with Steve when he’d made a decision. But you were clearly thinking with something other than your brain, because the words kept coming. “That’s not sex, just the tip—please, Steve.” You were begging shamelessly, but your shame and embarrassment were still nowhere to be found since you were still definitely drunk.

Steve’s jaw ticked so hard, you could’ve sworn you heard the muscle pop in the quiet of his truck as he ground his teeth together.

“Buttercup,” he growled, a warning in his tone. “That’s not happening.”

Your fists gathered in the front of Steve’s t-shirt and you yanked on it restlessly, not trying to do anything more than annoy him. “Whyyy,” you whined, drawing out the word until it was nearly a wail. Unslaked heat burned in your blood and, while you knew why he was refusing to have sex with you, in the moment, you couldn’t understand why your oldest friend was torturing you.

Your oldest friend’s eyes roamed over you, taking in your reaction. At first he seemed surprised, but then a glint of something you’d never seen before sparked to life in the depths of his blue eyes. You watched his gaze drop to your mouth, and nearly whimpered at the way the corner of his lips flickered in the ghost of a smirk. But then he fixed his gaze back on yours, pinning you in place with that stubborn look in his eye, though it was slightly dimmed in favor of that new, hungry glimmer.

Your lungs dragged in a soundless gasp and you finally understood his reticence, even if you couldn’t imagine ever regretting doing anything with Steve. But when you opened your mouth to protest, Steve’s fingers squeezed the sides of your throat.

Your words died on your tongue, and your mouth went slack, your eyes going hazy with pleasure. You couldn’t have been more obvious that you liked the way Steve choked you if you tried. And he read your enjoyment easily from the expression on your face, that look of hunger sparking brighter in Steve’s eyes before he went on.

“When I fuck you again,” he growled, his words a promise. “I don’t want you drunk on anything but my cock.”

“Stevie,” you whined his nickname again, the name only you were allowed to call him, your lips forming into a pout. It hadn’t escaped your notice that he’d said ‘when’, and not ‘if’, about having sex with you again, but you didn’t want to push your luck. And besides, unslaked need was still burning brightly through your body, consuming most of your focus. “I need…something, please.” You let out a little whimper and squirmed in his lap again, unable to stop yourself.

Steve huffed a laugh, his thumb stroking down the side of your neck, over your thrumming pulsepoint, while the fingers of his other hand slipped half an inch into the waist of your shorts, only far enough to dig harder into your soft curves.

“I’m not going to touch you more than this, buttercup,” Steve began, his voice a low, delicious rumble that you swore you could feel in the clenching of your core. “But I didn’t say anything about stopping you from touching yourself.”

Your eyes widened in excitement, and you wasted no time in acting on the implication in Steve’s words. Holding his gaze, one of your hands slipped free from his shirt and trailed down your body. When you reached between your thighs, the backs of your fingers brushed against a thick bulge in the front of Steve’s jeans.

It twitched against your soft touch, and you gasped in delight, loving the proof that Steve’s body recognized you just as much as his mind.

But when you twisted your hand, intent on giving Steve’s bulge a friendly squeeze, his hand darted down from your hips to your wrist, his fingers circling around you and stilling your hand. “Buttercup,” he rumbled, another warning.

A shiver raced down your spine and you reveled in the way it made you feel to hear Steve say your nickname like that. It occurred to you that it was new—you’d never heard him say it quite like that before, with frustration and arousal flooding his tone.

But the look in Steve’s eyes was stubborn again, and you knew you’d have to wait to hear all the ways he could say your nickname.

“OK, Steve, ‘m sorry,” you mumbled, twisting your hand in his hold and pressing the tips of your fingers to the seam of your shorts, your hips jerking forward to seek more of the friction you offered yourself.

Steve’s hold loosened, but he didn’t let go of you entirely, like he didn’t trust you just yet. But you didn’t care, your fingers were pressing into your clit through the thin denim of your shorts, and you were rocking your hips to grind against them, your wetness soaking through your panties almost immediately.

The moment when your fingers found just the right spot, you sucked in a sharp breath, your spine arching and your hips pressing down hard against your hand. Your head tipped back, your eyes narrowing into slits as you held Steve’s gaze. You moaned while you rubbed tight circles against your clit through your shorts.

“I’m going to come embarrassingly fast,” you huffed in warning, your chest heaving already with labored breaths.

But Steve only smirked, a touch of smugness in the curve of his lips.

“Don’t worry, buttercup, I remember exactly how sensitive your sweet little clit is,” he rumbled, and you moaned loudly. His fingers flexed against your throat, digging in enough to quiet your sounds and making your eyes widen as your hips lurched in their rhythm. He chuckled at your reaction before continuing on.

“I remember sucking on your puffy little pearl, your thighs squeezing my head, my fingers buried deep in your tight, warm hole,” Steve purred, seemingly knowing exactly what to say to drive your pleasure higher. “I remember the exact way your pussy gripped my fingers when you came, like you wanted me deeper—deep enough that you could feel me in your belly.”

“God, Steve,” you groaned, your head falling back listlessly on your shoulders, too heavy to keep it up. But Steve’s fingers dug into the back of your neck, and you understood the wordless command immediately. You lifted your head and caught your oldest friend’s eye while you kept rubbing your clit, pushing yourself closer to coming apart in his lap.

“I remember how big your cock felt inside me,” you confessed, spurred on by Steve’s own filthy words. “I remember how long it took for you to sink your thick, fat cock into my tight pussy.” You paused only to take a quick, hitching breath. “I was already so close when you came, and I remember, I thought, maybe if you hadn’t been wearing a condom, maybe I would’ve come, too.”

The lines of Steve’s face shifted, hardening, his jaw ticking wildly and his eyes going molten fierce, like the blue at the center a campfire that burns too hot to sit near.

“Don’t fucking say that, buttercup,” Steve growled, his voice gravelly like he was chewing on seashells. “If I hadn’t been wearing a condom, I would’ve come so much faster—I never woulda made it all the way inside you. Woulda been coming with just my tip inside your warm, wet pussy, baby—woulda been too risky, buttercup.”

Your eyes wanted to fall closed as you moaned, but you didn’t let them. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from Steve, not with that furious and ferocious hunger in his eyes, his desire for you etched into every single line and curve of his face.

You were so close. You just needed a little more to push you over the edge.

“Fuck, Steve, I know I shouldn’t, but I love the thought of you coming inside me, filling me up, making me yours,” you confessed, the words bubbling up from the very depths of your soul. It was on the tip of your tongue again, that thing you hadn’t admitted to yourself. Instead of letting it free, you moaned, long and loud, your fingers rubbing faster against your clit and your hips grinding against your hand.

“Christ, baby,” Steve gritted through tightly clenched teeth. His fingers were digging into your hip again, diving further beneath the waist of your shorts, nearly skimming the edge of your panties. His other hand tightened around your throat and dragged you into him, until your face was right in front of his and he could watch every twitch and change in your expression as you pleasured yourself.

“Come on, baby,” he said, his voice urgent with need. “Come before I do something we’ll both regret.”

The hand that wasn’t wedged between your thighs pressed to the center of Steve’s chest, just above his heart, and a moment later, you felt his warm palm cover it. He was still holding your throat, his fingers digging into the sides hard enough that you knew he could feel your fluttering pulse beneath his touch. And you could feel his heart pounding beneath your palm, the rapid pace nearly matching the frantic one in your chest.

“Come, buttercup, come for me,” Steve commanded, his eyes holding yours. For a moment, it felt like he could see straight into your soul. It was a scorching intimacy you hadn’t felt since that night you’d first been with Steve, and you were helpless to it.

“Stevie,” you cried his name as your pleasure rose up and consumed you, sending you over the edge into a earth-quaking orgasm. Your body writhed in Steve’s lap, your hips grinding gracelessly against your hand as you collapsed forward, leaning into the grip of his hand around your throat. You sobbed your pleasure, the waves of your release wracking your body for long moments.

Eventually, the final swell ebbed and the last of your energy receded with it. Your damp forehead fell against Steve’s cool, dry one and you struggled to catch your breath. His hand slipped from the front of your throat around to the back of your neck and he smoothed it down your spine.

He held you close, whispering in your ear, “Such a good girl, buttercup, you did so good.”

Once you finally settled, Steve shifted, his beard grazing your lips as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Can I take you home now?” he asked.

You huffed a laugh and slumped against his chest, laying your head sleepily on his shoulder. “I don’t think I can move yet,” you said, slurring your words with tiredness. And drunkenness.

Steve chuckled, but made no attempt to move you. You only felt him lifting his arms around you, though his hands didn’t settle on your body.

“If you see Sam while you’re back in town, don’t tell him I did this,” Steve murmured in your ear. Then you felt the truck rumbling to life and getting back onto the road and you realized where your oldest friend’s hands were. He was driving you home, with you still sitting boneless in his lap.

When Steve arrived at your rental house, not too long after, he helped you down from his truck and looped an arm around your waist, getting you into the bungalow. Thankfully, you were sated from your release in his truck so you didn’t try to proposition him again, just dutifully did as he said, changing into your pajamas in your bedroom while he waited outside the closed door.

Then he let you lean against his broad chest while you brushed your teeth and washed your face, before guiding you back to your room and tucking you into bed. Last, he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead that was so comforting, and made you feel so safe, your eyes fluttered closed and a soft smile curled your lips.

Before he could leave, your hand darted out and grabbed Steve’s wrist with surprising precision given your state and the fact that your eyes were closed. You dragged them open again, blinking away the bleariness until your childhood friend’s face came into focus.

For a long moment, Steve was quiet. He seemed to wait until you were just on the edge of sleep before responding to your drunken confession.

“Tell me that again when you’re not drunk, and I’ll believe you, buttercup,” Steve murmured, ducking down to press a kiss to your hand, still wrapped loosely around his wrist, before carefully extricating himself.

You were snoring before Steve closed and locked the front door of your bungalow behind him. He walked down the short path to his truck, which sat at the curb, a subtle smile on his lips and a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

#steve rogers #fan fiction #feedback #marvel #drag queen #animations #AND mine #divina de campo #trixie mattel #lala ri #baga chipz #vanessa vanjie mateo

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capquinn · 2 days ago

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okay i keep seeing fics and thoughts about how attentive quinn would be towards his partner and it got me thinking…

i feel like it would get to the point where he knows your body and your queues better than you know yourself. start to realize your allergies aren’t allergies? he already bought the meds you need and is making dinner. got your period? no surprise there, he has his own app for you and stocked up on snacks last week.

which brings me to this heheh.

i feel like once you have one or two babies with quinn he knows your pregnancy symptoms like the back of his hand. so much so that he tells YOU you’re pregnant again. and it would just hit him one night laying in bed (you know that man thinks himself to sleep)

I’m gone for him, enjoy my delulu land thoughts

hello????? this is so cute and so husband!quinn coded. i love this trope sm <3

Quinn moved through your world like he’d been born knowing the map of it. His care wasn’t loud or showy — it was quiet, woven into the seams of everyday life. He had a way of catching the things no one else would: the small shift in your posture when you were tired, the pause in your laugh when something was weighing on you. His hands knew the rhythm of your days, reaching for your mug before you could, adjusting the blanket without needing to ask if you were cold. It wasn’t that he studied you; it was more like you existed in a frequency he was always tuned into, effortlessly aware of every note, every shift, every unspoken word.

So, when the subtle changes began to creep in, Quinn noticed before you did.

It started with the small things — too small to put into words, but just noticeable enough for him to store away. The way you sighed a little heavier, your shoulders barely lifting before falling, as though the weight of the day had settled in deeper than usual. Or how you hesitated in doorways, pausing like you’d forgotten what you needed or where you were going, your brows knitting together in quiet thought. And then there was the tiredness, creeping in like a quiet visitor. Some afternoons, he’d find you curled up with Bug during her nap, the two of you tangled in a mess of blankets on the couch, her tiny hand resting on your chest as you dozed. It wasn’t like you, not the you he knew who thrived on filling the hours, always moving, always doing.

At first, he dismissed it. Everyone had their moments, days when energy flagged, when the world felt a little out of sync. But then the bigger, more obvious changes began to take root.

It began with the walk. You, Quinn, and Bug strolled through the neighbourhood on a crisp winter morning, the kind where the air felt fresh but not too biting. Bug was hopping along, gripping Quinn’s hand and jumping over cracks in the pavement. You paused by a lamppost, your gaze snagged on a flyer stapled to the pole. It was for a missing dog, the corners frayed from the cold. The photo — a golden retriever with the sweetest, dopey smile — stared back at you, and your throat tightened inexplicably.

You tried to hide it, quickly swiping at the tears that pricked your eyes, but Quinn noticed instantly. “You okay?” he asked, his brows knitting in concern.

You nodded too quickly, your voice unconvincing. “I’m fine. It’s just…” You trailed off, breathing a shaky laugh as the tears spilled anyway. “The poor dog…”

Quinn stopped in his tracks, gently pulling Bug to his other side so he could wrap an arm around your shoulders.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice warm and steady. “We’ll keep an eye out. Maybe someone’s already found him,” he said softly, though his brows furrowed as he held you.

You were sentimental, yes, but crying over a lost dog poster wasn’t like you. He kissed the top of your head, the thought lingering as Bug tugged at his hand to keep moving.

A few days later, it happened again. Bug had tripped over a loose stone in the driveway. It wasn’t anything dramatic — just one of those little stumbles kids have a dozen times a day. She scraped her knee, barely even a mark, and at first, she just sat there staring at it, trying to decide if it was worth crying over. Her lips wobbled, her big eyes filling with tears, and then came the wail — not loud, not panicked, just enough to let you know she’d decided it hurt.

Quinn crouched beside her in a heartbeat, his voice gentle and steady. “Hey, Bug, you’re okay,” he murmured, brushing the tiny specks of gravel off her knees. His hand lingered there for a moment, his thumb grazing the fabric as if to check for any real damage. “It’s just a little scrape. Barely even a scratch, see?”

Bug sniffled, her tiny hands clutching at the hem of his shirt as she leaned toward him, and Quinn scooped her up without hesitation. She buried her face against his chest, her little body shuddering with the last remnants of her tears.

You stood a few steps back, frozen in place. It wasn’t the scrape that did it, not really. It was the way her small shoulders shook, the way her face had crumpled like her whole world had been upended. It was her tears — so big and overwhelming for someone so small. Watching her cry felt like something cracking open inside you, and before you could stop yourself, tears pricked at the corners of your own eyes.

Quinn looked up, catching your expression in an instant. His brows furrowed slightly, his concern shifting toward you.

“She’s okay,” he said softly, his voice meant to reassure.

But the sight of him, standing there with Bug tucked safely against his chest, his voice low and calming, only made the ache in your chest sharper. Your hand flew up to your face, brushing quickly at your cheek to catch the tear that escaped, but Quinn noticed anyway. Of course, he noticed.

“Hey,” he said, his tone even gentler now, his eyes searching yours. “What’s going on?”

You tried to smile, but it came out shaky, your voice catching as you whispered, “Nothing, I’m fine. Just—” You swallowed hard, glancing at Bug’s little face as she peeked up at you, her tears already drying. “I’m being silly.”

She blinked at you, her sniffles slowing, her tiny voice soft as she said, “I’m okay, mommy.”

The sweetness of her reassurance undid you completely. Another tear slid down your cheek, and you let out a quiet, shaky laugh, brushing it away as Quinn stepped closer. He didn’t say anything, just wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you into the circle of warmth he and Bug created.

But even as the moment passed, it stayed with him.

And then came the smell of popcorn.

Family movie night was the kind of weekly tradition that carried a quiet comfort, the kind that made the whole house feel warmer and softer. Bug had already claimed her spot on the couch, clutching her stuffed bear, her little feet kicking in excitement as Quinn rummaged in the kitchen, the air popper humming softly. The scent of fresh popcorn started wafting through the house, buttery and rich, and he could already hear Bug giggling at the first loud pop.

But something was off.

You were mid-step to the couch, arms full of blankets, when you froze. Your nose crinkled, the kind of subtle movement Quinn might’ve missed if he hadn’t glanced up right then. You turned your head slightly, as if testing the air, and then your hand shot up, waving in front of your face like you could swat the smell away.

“Can you—” you hesitated, your voice uncharacteristically small. “Can you open the windows? Please?”

Quinn, mid-pour as the popcorn spilled into a bowl, paused, confused. “It’s freezing outside,” he said lightly, not in a way meant to argue but more like a question.

“Quinn, please” you said, cutting him off, your voice sharp with desperation. Your face had scrunched up, your hand pressing against your nose as you braced yourself on the back of a chair. “The smell...”

That was all it took. Without another word, he crossed to the window, shoving it open. A gust of cold air rushed in, making him shiver, but he stayed there for a second, staring at you as you sank onto the couch. You were pale, almost a little green, pulling the blanket over you like it could shield you from the lingering scent in the air.

He settled the bowl down, watching you carefully.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft and steady, the way it always was when he was trying to gently coax the truth out of you. There wasn’t an ounce of judgment in his tone, just that familiar warmth that made it impossible to brush him off completely.

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, though the tight smile on your face didn’t convince him. “It’s just… the smell of melted butter. It’s so strong tonight.”

His gaze lingered, his brow furrowing. The smell? The smell of buttery popcorn? You’d practically declared it your comfort food not long ago, sneaking bites every time he made a batch before the film had even started, laughing as Bug scolded you for eating hers. He could count on one hand the number of family movie nights where you hadn’t stolen the first handful, claiming quality control. But now? Now, you looked like you couldn’t stand to be in the same room with it.

“You want me to grab you something else? Crackers? Tea?” he offered, trying to fill the silence with solutions, throwing them out suggestions like lifelines.

You shook your head, brushing him off with a small wave. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

But Quinn wasn’t convinced. He sat beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as Bug wriggled into his lap, her giggles filling the room. You leaned into him, your head resting against his chest, and for a while, it felt like everything was back to normal.

But it wasn’t.

As Bug chattered happily about the movie, Quinn’s mind lingered on you. On the way your face had twisted, the way you recoiled from something you once loved. It wasn’t like you. Not at all. And the longer he held you close, the more certain he became that this wasn’t just a bad reaction to popcorn. It was something more. He just didn’t know what — yet.

But the biggest changes came just a couple of days later, revealing themselves in moments that caught Quinn completely off guard.

It was early in the morning, the kind of stillness that only came before the rest of the house stirred awake. Bug was sound asleep in her room, her soft snores barely audible through the monitor, and the house seemed wrapped in a peaceful hush. The air between you and Quinn felt heavier, charged, but in the best way — soft whispers, shared breaths, and the warmth of his body pressed close.

His hands moved over your skin with practiced tenderness, his touch warm and familiar, every stroke an unspoken declaration of love. His lips followed, pressing soft, languid kisses along your collarbone, trailing a path that left your skin tingling. This was how he loved you — slowly, deeply, making you feel like you were the only person in the world.

But then his lips brushed against your breast, featherlight, as if he was testing how far he could push before the teasing turned into something more. And yet—

“Quinn,” you whimpered, a sharp intake of breath cutting through the stillness as you shifted away from him. “Be gentle.”

He froze instantly, his concern immediate as he lifted his head to look at you. “I am,” he murmured, his voice quiet but tinged with confusion. He searched your face, his hands stilling on your waist as if waiting for you to say more.

You shook your head, swallowing against the lump in your throat. “It just… hurts,” you admitted, the words coming out softer than you intended, almost like you were embarrassed by them.

Quinn’s expression softened, an apology already forming in the tilt of his brow. He leaned in, brushing a kiss to the inside of your breast as though it could somehow make up for the discomfort, but you pulled away again, wincing before his lips even made full contact.

“Quinn, that hurts,” you repeated, a little louder this time, your hand coming up to shield yourself instinctively, a clear sign for him to avoid the area altogether.

His hands dropped to your hips, retreating as he leaned back, his brows knitting together further. He watched you carefully, his gaze full of questions he didn’t ask, giving you space but not pulling away entirely.

Quinn frowned, his thumb brushing over your skin in a soothing motion. “I didn’t mean to,” he murmured, his voice full of quiet sincerity.

“I know,” you replied quickly, offering him a small smile to reassure him. “It’s just… everything feels so sensitive.”

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck instead, but he could feel your hesitation, the way your body tensed slightly, as if bracing for more discomfort.

But even as he moved his touch elsewhere, skimming his hands over your back, your thighs, he couldn’t stop his mind from racing. Your reaction was unusual, out of sync with how things normally were between you. He’d always been attuned to your body, your needs, and this? This was different.

Still, when you pulled him closer, guiding him to where you wanted him, he let it go for now.

And it's later that night when everything makes perfect sense.

Quinn crawls into bed and the first thing he notices isn’t the movie playing on Netflix or the cosy way you’re propped up against the pillows. No, his attention zeroes in on the plate balanced on your lap — a plate of pickles, shiny and brined, with a big dollop of peanut butter right in the middle. His movements falter, half under the covers, as his eyes flick between you and the plate, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief.

You don’t even notice him staring, too distracted by scrolling through movie options. “What?” you ask, glancing over briefly before returning your attention to the TV.

“Who’s that for?” he asks, his voice slow, deliberate, like he’s waiting for the punchline.

“Me,” you reply without missing a beat, your tone distracted. “Why, you want some?”

He’s fully under the covers now, leaning back against the headboard, one brow raised as he studies you. “You hate pickles,” he says, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s holding back a smile.

You pause mid-bite, glancing over at him with a small frown. “I don’t hate them,” you argue, tone light but defensive, gesturing to the plate like it proves your point. “They’re just not my go-to snack. But they’re fine.”

His brow furrows deeper, his gaze flicking between you and the plate. “Since when?”

“Since now, I guess,” you shrug, as if it’s not worth discussing. Without missing a beat, you swipe another pickle through the peanut butter and take a bite, chewing like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Quinn doesn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches you. The corner of his mouth twitches again, but this time it’s not amusement — it’s something closer to realisation. Something is clicking into place, and as he leans his head back against the pillows, his gaze softens, filled with something you can’t quite place.

“What?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him as you catch the look on his face. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

He leans back against the pillows, shifting as if to settle in, and shrugs, his tone casual — too casual. “No reason,” he says, his voice smooth, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrays him.

You squint at him, suspicious. “Quinn…”

He shakes his head, lifting the blanket higher around his chest like it’s a shield, his eyes now glued to the TV. “Seriously,” he murmurs, his voice low, distracted. “It’s nothing.”

But you can see the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes, the way his lips press together like he’s holding back a grin. You open your mouth to press him further, but he shifts again, leaning into your side under the blanket as if that’s the end of the conversation.

Later, when the movie ends with a soft hum and the credits roll, the light from the screen flickers faint shadows across the room before everything dims into darkness. The lamp on the nightstand clicks off with a quiet snap, leaving the room bathed in a cosy stillness. The only sound now is Bug’s tiny snores filtering through the baby monitor, soft and steady, her little sighs rising and falling in a rhythm so gentle it could lull anyone to sleep.

You’re curled against Quinn’s side, warm and relaxed, your head resting on his chest, his arm draped around you as his fingers trace absentminded patterns over your back. The weight of the day lingers faintly in the air, softened by the quiet and the comfort of each other’s presence, and it should feel serene, the kind of moment Quinn would normally soak in without question, but not tonight.

His eyes are open, fixed on the ceiling though he isn’t really seeing it. His body is still, though his mind is anything but. It’s racing, piecing together a puzzle he didn’t even realise he was solving until tonight. The pickles and peanut butter. The popcorn. The tears over Bug’s scraped knee. The extra naps curled up on the couch. Each moment replays in his head, flashing brighter with every pass until there’s no way he can chalk it up to coincidence.

Bug’s little snore drifts through the monitor again, and he glances down at you, still nestled against him, your face soft and relaxed. He’s usually content to let moments like this pass unspoken, holding them close without the need to fill the silence. But tonight, the weight of what he’s realised feels too big to ignore.

It’s not nothing. Not even close.

“Baby?” he murmurs, his voice soft, careful not to break the quiet too harshly, trying not to startle you.

You hum softly against him, your head shifting slightly to nuzzle closer against him, your body too close to sleep to fully respond.

His hand stills on your back, and he swallows, the weight of what he’s about to say heavy in the stillness. “I think…” He draws in a breath, steeling himself for how to say it. “I think you’re pregnant.”

Slowly, you lift your head, your eyes meeting his in the dim light filtering through the blinds, your expression a mix of confusion and disbelief.

“What?” you whisper, your voice rough with sleep, your tone teetering between shock and amusement. “You can’t possibly know that.”

Quinn tilts his head down to meet your eyes, his own full of something soft and sure. There’s the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth, as though he’s both amused and completely serious all at once. Like he knows how absurd this might sound but believes it wholeheartedly.

“The pickles and peanut butter,” he says simply, his voice calm. “That’s not normal.”

You sit up a little, propping yourself on one elbow, your brow furrowing. “It’s not that weird,” you try to argue, though your voice wavers, betraying your uncertainty. “People eat stuff like that all the time.”

“Not you,” he counters immediately, insistent. His hand moves to rest on your waist, grounding. “You hate pickles. Always have. The only time you’ve ever eaten them was when you were pregnant.”

Your lips part, but no words come out. His statement hangs in the air between you, heavy with meaning, his certainty pressing against your rising disbelief.

“I mean… that’s not…” you start, your voice trailing off as the pieces begin to fall into place in your mind. “That doesn’t mean I’m pregnant,” you insist, but even as you say it, doubt creeps in. Your free hand drifts unconsciously to your stomach, resting there like it might offer some kind of confirmation.

Quinn’s thumb brushes against your side, the touch grounding but gentle, as if he doesn’t want to push you too far, too fast. “Maybe,” he says, his voice soft, like he’s offering you the space to deny it if you want. “But you’ve been tired, more emotional… and now this?” His lips twitch again, the faintest smile playing there, but his eyes stay steady on yours, filled with a quiet conviction.

You blink at him, a laugh bubbling up from somewhere deep in your chest — not from amusement, but disbelief. “Quinn, people eat weird food combos all the time. This doesn’t mean—”

“You really think it’s just a coincidence?” he interrupts gently, his tone more curious than challenging. “Pickles and peanut butter, of all things? That was your thing, baby. With Bug.”

The reminder makes you pause, your brow furrowing deeper as you glance down at where his hand rests on your waist. “That was… different,” you mutter, though the protest sounds weak even to your own ears.

Quinn leans in slightly, his forehead almost brushing yours, the closeness pulling your gaze back to his. His eyes are soft but insistent, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. His face is so steady, so full of quiet certainty, and it makes something flicker in your chest — a suspicion, a possibility, something you hadn’t let yourself consider until now.

“You’re serious,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath, the words more of an observation than a question, as if it’s just dawning on you that he isn’t joking. He genuinely believes it.

His hand comes up, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “I know you,” he murmurs, his tone as gentle s his touch. “And I’m telling you… you’re pregnant.”

You blink at him, your lips parting slightly, but no real words come out at first. Then, with a quiet laugh that’s half disbelief, half affection, you shake your head and murmur, “how do you always figure me out before I do?”

Quinn’s lips curve into a soft, lopsided smile, the kind that makes your chest ache with how much love it holds. “I pay attention,” he says simply, his hand still cradling your cheek, thumb brushing just under your eye.

You lean into his touch, your own hand coming up to rest lightly over his wrist. "And what if you're wrong?"

His chuckle rumbles low and easy in his chest as he presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there like he’s trying to pass some of his certainty onto you. "I don’t think I am," he says, his voice gentle, but the confidence behind it makes your pulse hum.

You don’t argue. Instead, you let the quiet between you stretch, the weight of his words settling softly over you. It’s fragile and insistent, nudging at the edges of your disbelief, coaxing you to consider it.

The idea blooms slowly, like a dawning realisation, soft and tentative, but impossible to ignore. It unfolds in layers — the thought of two children filling your home with laughter and chaos, the sight of Bug as a big sister, her tiny hands guiding even tinier ones, her voice full of pride and importance. You can almost hear the way she’d say it, proclaiming herself the helper, the protector, the best big sister in the world. The idea of another little person, someone with Quinn’s soft eyes and quiet strength, someone who might scrunch their nose when they smile, just like he does. Another piece of him, and of you, wrapped up into someone entirely their own. The thought is overwhelming in its sweetness, in the weight of its possibility.

You press closer against Quinn’s chest, your head resting over his heart as his fingers trace those lazy, familiar patterns on your back. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat thrums beneath your ear, grounding you in the moment, as if reminding you that you don’t have to figure it all out right now. And as the quiet fills the room, pierced only by Bug’s little sighs through the monitor, you let yourself imagine it more fully, the beginnings of a smile tugging at your lips.

Maybe — just maybe — he’s right.

#the second that pregnancy test turns positive he's gonna be so smug about it #all soft smiles and 'told you so' while trying not to look entirely too pleased with himself <3 #dad!quinn #capquinn's writing #capquinn’s requests #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes

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questionablecuttlefish · 1 day ago

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Okay Fine Let's Talk Timebomb and Season Two.

I do want to talk about this because I have a Lot of thoughts and feelings and it has been building up and building up, not only based on what's happening in other social spaces, but what people keep bringing into mine despite my best efforts to avoid it.

This isn't any kind of hatepost, I don't think I could hate Ekko or the ship if I tried, I just want to explain my very mixed feelings about the whole thing.

My likely-to-be-very unpopular take on Season Two's Timebomb romance is that it left me feeling uneasy and uncomfortable.

Not with what was in the show itself, I feel like that was perfect. Powder and Ekko sold me completely. They made me feel things. I even liked how Ekko and Jinx's story ended. I think it was beautiful, poignant, perfect...

...until.

'The Discourse' since, the way the fan culture has exploded around it, and particularly some of the creators' commentary on it, has made me sour on the whole thing.

It feels like I'm suddenly part of an increasingly small subset of people who saw what they did with S2 Timebomb and applied our media literacy to what was on our screens and got something very different to what the fandom consensus seems to be.

For context, I semi-shipped TB before this. Though I've always been Team Lightcannon, I had a lot of respect for timebomb, I understood it, I had read a few very good fics, I was just in the space of "Jinx has hurt Ekko too much for him to ever fully forgive her for murdering his friends, they might come to an understanding, and there will always be a silent undercurrent of love beneath the hurt, they may fight together on the same side again someday, but whatever bond they had as kids is broken and they can't go back, and both know it."

I respected, and still do, people who shipped them romantically, but I've always seen them as a broken childhood friendship being a much more interesting dynamic, and being hot for each other lessening that to an extent and not really adding anything to it.

All of his interactions with Jinx in season one are violent; she murders five Firelights point-blank in front of him in her intro scene, and Ekko reacts particularly upset to the pink-haired girl, Eve or Eva, whom Jinx shoots in the back. It's clear this isn't even the first time she's fought them. We don't know how many of Ekko's found family she's put on the Memorial Wall or how close he was with any of them.

Ekko is clearly convinced that "Powder" is gone, and the person who replaced her is a cold-blooded killer who can't be reasoned with. Leading to the Bridge confrontation, and this:

This is the first time Ekko catches a glimpse of "Powder", yes, but more importantly, this is the first moment he recognizes Jinx's humanity. He's hurting her, killing her, and he can't do it.

....and she knows he can't do it.

So, to save him the weight, she pulls a grenade, with the intent to kill them both, foreshadowing quite neatly where Ekko/Jinx (but not Ekko/Powder) is going to go in S2.

Fast forwarding from Season One here, Ekko disappears for 2/3rds of the second season, completely offscreen.

When we catch up with him he's woken up in the S2E7 AU; the Powder Timeline.

Here's where I start to get a little confused by the fandom take. Because, you know, I've seen enough Star Trek and Stargate and Supernatural and Batman the Animated Series and Quantum Leap to know exactly what this is.

This is the 'bottle episode', this is the 'Perfect World' trope, where the protagonists find themselves in an alternate universe - or trapped in a dream - or they've died or think they've died and this is their 'heaven' - where they have everything they ever wanted.

This is familiar storytelling and E2 follows a familiar pattern, the protagonist struggles to adapt to the surreal new circumstances, they are seduced by the illusion, particularly falling in love with someone in the Perfect World, but eventually, they start noticing something incongruous - something isn't quite right - (In this case, it's Vi's death, and Powder holding back her genius and hiding her grief to be support girl for others) - that reveals the Perfect World to be not as perfect as it seems.

And the hero has to choose to go home, because he realizes that this isn't real, it doesn't belong to him, he doesn't belong here.

Which is exactly what happens with Ekko in E7.

Which brings is to AU!Powder and Jinx.

And here's where I really start to struggle with the seeming consensus that the romance between Ekko/Powder automatically leads to Ekko/Jinx, like you can just transfer the one to the other.

I'm sorry, fam, I thought my basic media literacy was telling me that this girl:

Is not the same person as this girl:

....and I am not getting into any debate about "Jinx" vs "Powder" as identities within our current Jinx. I'm talking about Powder in the E7 AU.

AU!Powder is literally a different human being.

She may have been the same person up until the explosion in Jayce's laboratory, but from that fork in the timeline, she becomes a FUNDAMENTALLY different person to Jinx, shaped by different experiences, different relationships, different life events.

Powder's physicality with Ekko, as you can see in those GIFs, the casual intimacy, the clear affection, the way she touches him, looks at him, her awareness of him in her space, is so utterly opposite to the way Jinx interacts with him that if anything, it nailed home to me how savagely absent this kind of feeling is from his relationship with Jinx.

Powder loves Ekko. She leans on him, snuggles into him, touches his hands, dances with him, kisses him.

Jinx cares so little about him she barely makes eye contact and would casually kill him without blinking.

And I thought that was the point.

I really thought that was the whole point of E7. Being in the perfect world, getting his perfect love story with his perfect Powder, the girl Jinx could have been, but can never be, drove home for Ekko that his feelings for Jinx, both romantic and resentful, were tangled up in his illusions of "Powder", and it took living those illusions as a physical reality for Ekko to see his mistake.

To be true to himself, and true to her, Ekko had to let that go and go home.

To face his world's Jinx, and be there for her in her darkest moment, even if it meant giving up the love he'd found with Powder, a love that belonged to a different Ekko, for someone who could never love him back.

To me that was Ekko's most heroic moment, an act of selfless sacrifice. But that's what it was - a sacrifice.

Meanwhile, Season Two Jinx is not aware of any of this. The last time she saw Ekko was on the bridge where she nearly killed him, and for all we know she might have thought she succeeded.

She never talks about, thinks about, refers to, or even has scribble-nightmares about Ekko, not even once.

Season Two Jinx is, instead, having a love story of her own.

And Isha was and is a PUZZLE to me. Because she's more plot device than character, she isn't necessary except as a way to give Jinx a villain-to-hero arc and a way to reconnect to her humanity.

But she could have been Ekko.

If they really, really wanted us to have Timebomb Canon, instead of confining the entire arc to a bottle episode in an alternate timeline with a literally, physically different girl, they could easily have given all of Isha's considerable screentime to an Ekko and Jinx romance.

I'm sure Amanda Overton would have been on board with that. But that's not what we got. It's almost like reading two different fix-it-fanfics for the same character, put into the same show and running in parallel.

I'm not crazy, this is what's happening for Ekko in s2;

While this is happening for Jinx at the same time.

But Jinx's love story, too, ends with a tragic sacrifice.

And here's where the two stories finally intersect.

When Jinx is in her darkest moment, her absolute rock bottom, Ekko comes back into her life, a miracle, impossible, a Boy Savior.

But she's still ready to kill him.

Because she didn't dance with Ekko. She didn't invent a time machine with him. She didn't sit and watch the city lights with him and share a tender kiss and a heartfelt gift.

That was Powder.

Jinx and Ekko are resuming right where they left off on the bridge, right back to "I pull this pin and we both blow up".

They've both loved and lost, but their stories are absolutely unknown to each other. Ekko Doesn't Know About Isha. Jinx Doesn't Know About Powder.

It's only when Jinx (a genius, a reminder here) sees monkeys of her own design inside the Z-drive - recognizes her own handiwork, but knows SHE didn't make those - that, I think, sheer curiosity stirs her out of her darkness.

She has to know what that was about. She hesitates, just long enough for Ekko to speak. And, though offscreen, he tells her his story, and maybe she tells him hers.

And it's enough, just enough, to set Jinx back on her Redemption Arc, to become the hero Isha always saw in her.

Maybe even the hero Vi and Ekko saw in her, too. Her new costume is full of references to all of the people in her life who never gave up on her.

(side note, the yellow stars and crowns puzzle me, though - they're quite prominent, but who are THEY for? Isha? Maybe? Yellow isn't a color associated with anyone in Jinx's life, but that crown's identical to the one she scribbled on Demacia in Fortiche's map, is... this a very subtle future Lightcannon tease? Nah. I'm not that crazy.)

I mean her costume is also almost literally both a Fishbones and a Fiddlesticks cosplay, with her hair as Fiddle's tongue, so take from that what you will.

It's clear Jinx and Ekko war painted each other for the battle, but the Firelights are also similarly painted up, and (with Linke even confirming this) there really wasn't time to develop anything else, guys.

And I am, honestly, fundamentally angry at anyone who would suggest that, even if she'd been in any space to want it, our boy Ekko, one of the most genuinely good men in recent fiction let alone in Arcane, would take advantage of a girl he just talked out of suicide.

Moving on. During the battle, Ekko is knocked out and lying not far from Jinx. She doesn't even look at him, she leaps up to defend Vi instead.

And that's their final interaction on the show.

Instead of returning to Ekko, Jinx chooses one final act of sacrifice.

Ekko's final shot of the show is this.

He's sitting, alone, burning a mourning paper, where he sat with AU!Powder - where he and AU!Powder kissed - a place that has no significance to himself and Jinx, whatsoever.

It's little wonder who he's thinking about here, and which name he's burning on that paper. The girl he truly loved and lost.

For all he knows, Jinx is dead. But it's not only her he's mourning.

Or maybe he does know, or suspect, she's alive.

But either way, he's making one final act of sacrifice, too, with that paper burning into the breeze.

He's letting her go.

He's choosing his own story.

He's staying where he belongs.

Jinx may have become a symbol of the revolution, but it's Ekko who is, and always will be, the true hero of Zaun.

And this is Jinx's final shot.

Because let's face it, we all know she's on that airship.

She's "breaking the cycle". She's "walking away". She knows that Jinx has left too many scars on the people she still loves - on Vi, on Ekko, on the cities of Piltover and Zaun - for her to pick up the pieces.

She knows that if she's going to find out what "Jinx" might stand for now, she has to go very far away from everything and everyone. She has to leave it all behind and find something new.

Maybe even someone new?

And ultimately, that's why I feel the Timebomb we got was perfect, they shouldn't touch it, they shouldn't try to force it to be "Endgame", not because it couldn't have worked, but because that's the opposite of the story they told.

For the rest of my analysis, lol, this got a bit long but i have FEELINGS.

Now, I'm not saying I wouldn't buy Jinx and Ekko as a love story if they had actually told that love story. But they didn't. It had no screen time. They have less interactions in S2, maybe even in both seasons added up, than Vi and Loris. Let that sink in a bit.

We know it's Amanda's favorite ship, so she may have intended more, and may even actually give us all more at some point, but please, dear god, let's stop pretending they fucked or kissed or even held hands offscreen.

That's honestly a bit insulting to both of these characters, to insist hell or high water that this very important milestone in their relationship happened, but they just didn't even bother to depict it. That an entire love story (because it would be a whole one, remember, Ekko and Powder had a romance but Jinx did not experience any of that, she and Ekko are back at Square One) would just be cut for time.

They both deserve better than that.

Let's stop pretending there was some grand, horny, Forever Love story with 60 minutes of cut footage, all of it timebomb content, somehow left on the cutting room floor of an animated show where every single frame has to be deliberately hand painted.

Because if in some insane universe they had written, storyboarded, voice acted and animated an entire 60 minute additional timebomb storyline and then cut it from the show, that would itself be a searing indictment of the quality of the storytelling in that imagined arc, but that's not what happened. Anyone who knows how filmmaking works would shoot this one down, and the showrunners already have, so let's leave it behind.

I know Timebomb blew up hard, and I get it, but what we got on the screen is not confirmation that there is any relationship at all between Ekko and Current Timeline Jinx. If anything, Ekko and Powder's beautiful romance only highlighted the tragic 'never to be' of Ekko and Jinx.

And it's absolutely fine to look at the art book, look at the creator comments, and imagine what could have been. Draw the fan art, write the fanfic, imagine the what-ifs and the fix-its, those are all beautiful and valid expressions and deserve their space.

But don't go insisting it's "the canon" and going after the shippers of other ships for these characters as "not canon" or somehow offensive for existing, especially toward one particular ship that, yes, has been around much longer than timebomb, is uncool.

I think this is mostly people who are New From Arcane, it's Baby's First Ship and they don't know how to share space. The timebomb fans I knew pre-season two didn't do this, at least not often enough for me to notice or care.

But I'll just say to them, if a Timebomb follow up happens and they actually tell a good love story for Ekko and Jinx, I will accept it. Grudgingly, because I think Lux/Jinx is an untold, untapped story full of incredible character dynamics that would complete Jinx's story in ways that as much as I love Ekko, he's too tied to her past, he can't.

But I love Ekko, and I love Jinx, and I will accept it.

But I'll also say to them, if the followup doesn't eventuate, if things take a turn they don't expect, if Jinx's airship is heading for Demacia, maybe they'll have to experience just a taste of what it's been like for Lightcannon fans for ten long years.

And maybe that's healthy. Maybe that's okay. Maybe our endgames don't need to be 'canon' to have value and that's a lesson we should learn.

Maybe there's a new Light on her horizon, and that's okay too. Maybe Ekko won't be alone forever. Don't forget - until Arcane - his story had nothing to do with Jinx, and there was a whole lot of it.

More with the Firelights, maybe bring in the original Lost Children of Zaun from his old stories, his inventions, his parents, all could yet be in his future. Who knows? He might find a way back to AU!Powder - or she might rebuild what they worked on together, and come to him, no matter what butterfly effects that could set in motion...

But if Jinx is heading for a Light on her horizon, maybe Ekko might Explore some of his possibilities. Find a new Spark of connection. Just saying. Jinx isn't his only ship, either 😌

And it is okay for people to move on, and let go. Maybe, for two characters whose themes are letting go of the past, living in the moment, redefining their identities, and moving on, that's what their story should be.

#jinx #ekko #timebomb #league of legends #arcane jinx #arcane netflix #arcane #lol jinx #lux #lightcannon #discourse #fan theories #not a hatepost #shipping #ezko #ezreal #zeri

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iwannaleavemymind · 2 days ago

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Shibari Sukuna.

That’s it that’s the prompt if your a minor and not into kinky shit do not interact.

Trueform Sukuna! X fem!reader

Also proofread idk how to write this mf with two dicks, soooo bear with me please😭

The tight ropes of the Shibari tied around your wrists dig almost uncomfortably into your skin- although lord Sukuna would never allow his beautiful queen nothing but the finest material for the ropes now would he?

The silky fabric of your slip dress is a stark contrast to the precarious position you’re in, with your legs and wrists tied together suspended in thin air, keeping you up and looking around the room.

Well- a better way to put it trying to look around the room, kinda hard to keep any focus with the pink haired man currently overstimulating you with his tongue(s).

“Hah f-fuuuck s’too much kuna!” Desperate please and cries for him to slow down spill past your lips, all but being acknowledged. Mocking your little pants and whimpers by teasing you with his mean mouth.

“Cmon little mouse I thought you wanted this?” He says right before delving nose deep back into your soaked core, his tongue flicking up and down your now-overly sensitive clit, his fingers finding a steadfast pace inside your cunt. Teasing you over and over, making your cum once but keeping you on the edge- just how he likes it.

Loves it when you whine and moan his name, legs shaking around his face, your shaky thighs nearly crushing him, but he had another set of arms for that more than welcome problem of his.

Two of his arms reach up to meet your soft plush thighs, spreading them apart further than they already were- “trynna kill me with those thighs of yours heh? Gonna try harder than that baby.”

The stimulation proves too much for your body to handle, eventually begging him to let you cum again.

“Please kuna please-!” Chest rising and falling with each shallow breath, your pussy clenching around his fingers, making a shit eating grin spread across his lips.

“Huh? What’s that baby your close hm?”

“Y-yes please let me cum! Kuna’ please I need to so bad!” Your words are slurred with desperation and need, begging for a release.

His arms tighten around your thighs, holding you in place while he eats you out, his cocks rock hard from your sweet little lips, begging and moaning and just feeling you around his fingers drives him mad.

He gives you what you want, his fingers curling inside you hitting your g spot eliciting a high pitched moan from you, “y’like that messy girl? Cmon use your words.”

Not even a words slips past your lips when you open them to beg for a release again when you feel him smirk against your throbbing clit, moving his fingers in tandem with his mean tongue flicking it around your sensitive bud, sucking and spitting on the sensitive bundle of nerves; at this point it’s not much before you cum alllll over his fingers your juices spilling down his lips down onto his neck, admiring your fucked out expression.

He can feel his cocks are already painfully hard, pre cum dribbling from the pretty bulbous slit on the top of his pretty tip, how will your poor pussy even handle him?!

(He’ll make it fit don’t worry 😉)

He lets you come down from your high, whispering sweet nothings in your ears whilst tightening your restraints, cooing and praising you on how good you did.

Not long before he’s untying his own pants letting them fall to the floor before fisting his cock, his pretty tip covered in pre cum all ready for just you. He holds your thighs in place, slowly pushing one of his cocks in, letting you adjust to the sheer size of him.

“Biiiiig stretch, yer doin’ so good for me baby jus like that.” Low pants and half lidded eyes are the give away that he’s almost pussy drunk just halfway in, your slippery, warm walls coating his dick in a sheen of slick.

His pace gradually picks up, filling you up to the brim, with two of his arms holding you in place, fucking you back onto his cock making high pitched whines and moans come from your pretty lips.

“Didn’t know she was so excited to see me hm?” He teases you, sitting that spot deep inside you making your eyes roll back, the curve of his dick hitting your g spot perfectly, measured with his hard thrusts it makes it easy for you to become undone beneath him.

“Yeah baby, j-just like that ohhh fuuuck.” He moans in your ear, using one of his arms to pull your hair back, keeping you in place. low moans and pants come from the strong man above you, his praise causing your pussy to spasm all over his cock, “y’like that little mouse? Such a dirty girl.”

Your moans and pleas spur him on even more, quickening his thrusts with the room filled with the sound of your soaked pussy cumming again and again all over him and his hips meeting yours over and over again in a mean fashion.

“Good girl, so reactive and needy jus’ how I like it.” His thrusts punctuate each word, tears streaking down your cheeks with the overwhelming pleasure.

“Kuna! F-fuck ohmygod I’m s’close!” You cry out, feeling close to him pushing you over the edge again

He fucks you rough and mean, his thrusts becoming sloppy and desperate, knowing he’s close too, but he’ll make you cum, ladies first isn’t it?

“Hah- such a good girl givin’ me exactly what I want hm? Fuckin you like I hate ya huh?”

“P-please feels s’fuckin good” you mewl, eyes rolling back and mouth falling open in an O shape, squirting all over his dick, soaking his sculpted abdomen, and surprising you at the same time.

“Ah found it.” He smirks down at you, you can’t see him but you can just feel the shit eating smirk on his face.

He fucks you at an inhuman pace, your sloppy cunt sucking him in juuuuust right, so perfect for him. It’s not long after he follows suit, buried to the hilt in your snug cunt, letting his release coat your insides and his seed spill out of you.

“didn’t know you could do that girl, let’s try both hm? See if I can make that pretty pussy squirt all over me again Kay?”

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seokmn · 2 days ago

Text

pairing: joshua x gn!reader

genre: fluff

wc: 1.2k words

warnings: mentions of drinking, brief moment of shirtless joshua, suggestive moment if you squint reaaally hard

joshua took a sip of his drink and pointed his index finger at you, “what do you think of me? no sugarcoating”. you also took a sip of your drink and gave him a small nod before speaking, “i think youre cool”

“seriously? cool? just ‘cool’?”

you shrugged your shoulders, “what else do you want me to say?”. joshua looked away and pouted, his voice was as quiet as a whisper, “i thought you were going to say a little bit more”

you rolled your eyes, “i think youre really polite and kind with people. hm… i dont like the way you always find a new song to obsess with and sing the same verse for days every single time, but at the same time, i love your voice, it gives people comfort. your voice is like a hug after a stressful day.” you took a long sip of your drink before continuing, “i also like when you smile and how your eyes disappear. let’s see… i like when you always try to reassure me that everythings fine when i mess something up and when you look at me when im looking at you and your dimples come out. oh and-“

“i think thats enough” joshua cut you off and chuckled. he shook his head slightly, finding funny how you started yapping about the things you like about him. that being a sign that you were starting to get tipsy. “if you keep going ill think i like me or something”

“okay, my turn now. look at me” you leaned forward, your chest glued to the table as you looked at joshua’s face intensely. joshua smiled a bit and leaned forward as well, looking at you. “‘kay, im looking”

“do you see someone looking back at you or do you see someone thats in love with you?” you asked, eyes narrowing as you tried to analyze his reaction. on the other side, joshua’s smile died and he suddenly got shy. he drank all of his drink in one sip and rubbed the back of his neck. “so… youre in love with me?”

you just nodded with an affiliative smile on your face, “yes. very much so”

joshua could feel his cheeks heating up. he stood up and walked towards you, he placed his hand on your shoulder and looked down at you, “im afraid youre getting drunk so i guess its time for us to leave, i dont want to keep saying things that you might regret about tomorrow.”

“but its your birthday and i just confessed to you… dont you feel the same?”

“maybe…” he chuckled, “ill only admit it when you tell me about your feelings while being sober. now lets go, ill take care of you”

you huffed, “fiiiine… but you know, that is so not fair!”

“its my birthday, so its fair if i say so and im telling you thats soo fair”

he paid for the drinks and food you two consumed and went back to his place with you. he let you sleep on his bed while he slept on the couch.

you could hear the birds chirping and feel the sun on your face. you slowly sat up, frowned and placed your hand on your head, feeling it hurt. “gosh…” you looked around and noticed the obvious, that wasnt your bedroom. panic was slowly starting to increase, but it died as soon as you heard a voice singing in the background. you knew that sweet voice too well. you were at joshua’s home.

you walked towards the voice and you found him shirtless and cooking. you blushed a little and cleared your throat to make your presence known, he turned around and looked at you, giving a smile that warmed your heart. “good morning, did you sleep well?”

“morning.. yea, i slept very well, but now my head is killing me” he chuckled, “that wont be a problem anymore” he said as he placed a bowl of hangover soup in front of you. you mumbled a thank you and started eating it, enjoying the taste.

“is it good?”

“ah, yes. its really good! you know what else would be good?” joshua raised his eyebrow, waiting for you to tell him. “a shirt”

the man laughed and smirked, “cmon, i know you love it. but okay, ill put on a shirt”. you watched him put on a white shirt, but you were with a puzzled expression on your face, why would he say that? was he only being extra or did you say something last night? “what you mean? i dont love it!”

“oh, so you dont remember about last night?” he had a cocky smile on his lips and your eyes widened. last night? what did you do or say last night? you looked at him with a blank expression for a few seconds, trying to process everything. once you thought you got it, you immediately gasped and placed your arms on your chest and on your lap, as if you were trying to hide your body.

joshua’s eyes widened as well and he shook his head, completely in panic. “no! its not what youre thinking!! i even slept on the couch!” he said as he pointed at the couch with some pillows and a blanket. you looked at the couch and let out a deep breath you didnt know you were holding.

“then why would you say such a thing?!” you looked at the soup and muttered while mixing it with the spoon, “saying like we did something…”

“so you dont remember what you asked me last night? whoa… you really cant drink alcohol”

“what i asked you…?” you tried your best to remember about the night before. a few memories started to come together and your jaw started to slowly drop as you remembered the stupid answers you gave to his questions and the even more stupid question you asked him. you hid your mouth with your hand and looked at joshua in complete shock.

“looks like someone remembers now” he said with a smirk on his face, crossing his arms as he leaned on the kitchen counter. “i-uh…”

“was it true or just drunk words?”

“why do you wanna know?” you raised your eyebrow. you were getting defensive because you didnt know what to answer. would he dump you? would your friendship with him be ruined because of your feelings?

joshua tilted his head and smiled gently, “i think i deserve to know, dont i?”. you scoffed while looking away before looking back at you, “maybe it was true, so what? huh? its not like im gonna chase you or try to make you fall in love with me or some shit like that!”

he just let out a calm sigh and took the bowl of soup away from you. “hey! if you dont feel the same just say it, you dont have to take my food away!”

“get your coat”

“woah-“ you scoffed, feeling offended, “youre kicking me out? is that it?”

“nope, im going to take you on a date. your feelings are reciprocated and as a late birthday gift we’ll be enjoying a really good time together. and who knows, maybe in three months you wont have to pretend to not like to see me shirtless anymore”

you rolled your eyes, not being able to hold back your smile. you grabbed your coat and ran to him, interlocking your arm with his. “that sounds good, i like it. and just to let you know, i never said i dont like to see you shirtless” he chuckled as he opened the front door, “i know. but its nice to tease you”

you playfully hit his arm and he laughed. “lets go?”

“lets go.”

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rafeyscurtainbangs · 1 day ago

Text

“𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘” #𝟚

𝚃𝚠𝚒𝚗 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝙵𝚒𝚌

𝚂𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚞𝚝

𝕀𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟'𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟜 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜 🩷

Main Story

Warning: threesome, angst, kissing, swearing, praise, pet names, make up sex, wet and mess, nipple play, fingering, oral sex (male + female receiving, thigh riding, choking, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, owner ship kink, rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, cum tasting, sucking fingers, fingering, unprotected p in v, anal, overstim., squirting, teasing, and degradation

❕❕𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚡 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚣𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙸𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗❕❕

Reader’s POV:

“You’re goin’? I thought we talked about this?” Rafe asks breathlessly.

“Talked about what?” You ask as you look at Cam, then Rafe.

“You said you loved her, Cam,” Rafe chides.

“I fuckin’ do, Rafe. You know I do…”

“Then where the hell are you goin’?” Rafe asks.

“Hearin’ all the shit I did, it’s-”

“Do you want him here?” Rafe cuts in, looking you in the eyes. You take a little breath, lips tugging to the side, nodding ‘yes.’”

“Baby…” He whispers, needing words.

“I want you here,” you breathe through trembling lips. “Please don't go.”

Cam bites his lips, brows pulling together as he tries to regain his emotions.

“We didn’t want you to feel like you had to choose,” Rafe says softly, pulling your attention back to him. “We’ve already wasted all this time tryin’ to figure our shit out, and I don’t want to lose you. I love you. And I’m not asking you to give anything up. No ultimatums.”

“Wh-What does that mean?” You ask uneasily, feeling like you did when Rafe asked to share you the first time.

“You’d be with me,” Rafe smiles softly, relishing those words as he looks down at you. “You and I… Just like before. And, Cam, you can talk to him whenever you’d like, with or without me, hang out, go on dates and shit, fuck. I don’t fuckin’ care as long as I can call you mine.”

“Are you sure?” You ask Rafe, unsure if you're even hearing him correctly given everything that happened.

Rafe exhales deeply, his expression softening as he looks down at you. “Yeah. I don’t know what to call it. I’m no good with this shit. S’just, you, baby. You’re my girl…” Rafe voice gets caught in his throat. He swallows hard before trying again. “I’d do anything for you. I want you in my life forever. I know you and Cam have somethin’ special. I don’t fuckin’ get it…” He laughs weakly, through his emotion as Cam returns the same. “M’not sayin’ it’s gonna be easy. But these past few weeks have been hell… I would rather work through this than be without you. I need you in my life, princess. I know what I want, and if this is the only way to keep you, then so be it.”

“I don’t expect anything from you, sweetheart. We don’t have to put a label on us. This is enough. And I won’t get in the way, I swear.” Cam stuffs his hands in his suit pockets, looking back at you from the other side of the suite before walking toward you again. “I’ll respect you and Rafe’s space—I’ll be grateful for anything you can give me. I don’t want to lose you either.”

Your chest tightens at his words as they all start to sink in. It seemed too good to be true.

“Just to be clear, if this were anyone else, they’d be fuckin’ dead,” Rafe mumbles, seeing the worry painted all over your face. “I know how much he wants to be with you, and I can’t take that from him or you.”

Cam nods, his gaze never leaving yours. “I want to be with you, sweetheart.”

“I wanna be with you too,” you smile weakly as you look at Rafe, “both of you… I just-”

“You think it’ll go up in flames like last time?” Rafe asks. “I don’t blame you for doubtin’ me, princess. But I promise, this time, it’s fine. We got you. Okay?” You look up at him, still in disbelief, your bottom lip wobbling as you try to keep it together. “Co’mere,” he chuckles softly as he pulls you in for a hug, lips pressing against your forehead. “You’re okay—I swear, pretty girl. Aight? Fuckin’ promise you. We’re gonna take care of you.”

“Okay,” you whisper, your voice muffled slightly against his muscular chest.

“Does this sound like somethin’ you want, princess?” Rafe asks as he holds you close.

“Yes,” you whisper. Rafe lets you go, and Cam grabs you, tugging at your hand to pull you into his arms, lifting you off your feet in a hug as you bury yourself in his warm neck. “You love me?” Your voice comes out muffled against his skin.

“Of course I do,” he whispers back.

“I love you too.”

“Yeah?” He asks happily as he sets you down on your heels, and Rafe reaches for you before you can say anything anymore, stealing you back, grabbing your hand just like Cam did, but you jump into his arms, lips crashing against his. He smiles into your kiss, holding you tight. “I love you, baby,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he mumbles as his lips brush gently against yours. “Got you back…”

“You did,” you breathe as you scratch your nails into his hair, pressing gentle kisses against his lips and cheeks.

“N’you’re mine? You're my girlfriend?” He asks as he walks with you toward the bed.

“I’m your girlfriend, Rafe,” you smile. “And you’re my boyfriend?”

“I’m your fuckin’ boyfriend, sweetheart,” he groans before tossing you down on the bed, making you land with a bounce. You reach for him, pulling him down by his tie, kissing him hungrily. “Fuck, baby,” he grunts into your kiss as he grinds his body into yours, tongues tangling.

You watch out from the corner of your eye as Cam walks to the foot of the side of the bed, free of his suit jacket, pawing off his tie before popping open the buttons of his shirt.

You separate from Rafe’s lips, finishing the job for Cam as you open the last few buttons, lips pushing against his. “M’so glad you asked me to stay,” he whispers against your lips. “I don’t deserve you. I won’t lie to you anymore… I’ll tell you everything. Okay? Everything,” he pants as you pull his shirt off his broad shoulders.

Rafe moves behind your back, drawing down the zipper of your dress as he kisses along your shoulder, brushing the delicate straps off with his thumbs, letting the silky material fall to your feet. “Holy shit,” Rafe groans as he presses up into you, his rock-hard cock pushing against your ass. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, baby-”

“So perfect,” Cam mumbles between deep kisses, his voice heavy with longing. Rafe’s rough fingers unclasp your bra as you work on the button and zipper of Cam’s pants.

Rafe spins you around, pushing his lips against yours as his fingers play with the hem of your lace panties, snapping them against your hot skin, making you whimper against his soft lips. Rafe pulls them down, leaving you bare and the boys in their boxers as you all climb onto the bed.

They sit beside each other, their backs pressed against the headboard. Rafe tugs you right where he wants you–your wet pussy pressed against his thigh, close enough to Cam where he could pull you in for a kiss. And that’s exactly what he does; your tongue dances with Cam’s as you grind yourself on Rafe's muscular leg while he plays with your tits.

The kiss is rough and needy; Cam quickly controls the situation. Rafe pinches and rolls your nipples, making you moan into his brother’s mouth as little spurs of pleasure spark between your thighs. Rafe captures your nipple between his lips, sucking and biting–chuckling wickedly against your skin. “Holy fuck, you’re wet, sweetheart,” he hums as he grips you by the hair, pulling you off Cam’s lips and onto his.

You let out a moan against his mouth, Rafe taking the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, reeling with yours as you start to rut faster. Cam takes his chance to play with your tits, palming his cock through his boxers, but you push his hand aside, making him laugh sleazily as you do it for him. You wrap your fist around his thick dick, squeezing him, feeling the wet spot of precum gathered on the fabric.

Your stomach starts to coil, and your movements get more desperate by the second. Rafe grabs your hips, pushing you down, using his muscle to rock you, Rafe, sending you over the edge, making your pussy flutter around nothing.

“That’s our girl… Fuck, princess? Does that feel good? You want some more?” He asks.

“Yes,” you whimper, shaky breaths fleeing your kiss-swollen lips.

“You’re cumming all night, baby,” Cam hums as he pushes your hair back, kissing your neck. “Gotta lot of time we need to make up for.”

“That’s fuckin’ right,” Rafe hums, reaching around to slap your ass. “I’m gonna taste you, princess. You wanna taste him?” Rafe asks, soothing the sting with the palm of his hand.

“Yes, baby,” you whisper, kissing him tenderly.

“Well, aren’t I lucky, huh?” Cam mumbles hot against your ear. The two boys lay you down, tugging their boxers the rest of the way off. Your eyes darken, mouth-watering as you take in every inch of tight, tan skin, muscles to spare, their dicks achingly hard as they move a little closer. Rafe grabs your thighs in his big hands, pushing you open.

He flicks his tongue against your puffy clit, still sensitive from your first release. Rafe laps up your pussy, moaning into your cunt, burying his face in you, inhaling your scent. He starts to grind himself into the mattress, his fingers finding your bud, tongue swirling around your hole.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you cry out as he presses his tongue inside, tongue fucking you like you’ve been craving for weeks; the man chasing your second orgasm of the night, already thinking about the third as he works his cock against the bed, getting off on your taste at the moment.

You pout your lips in overstimulation; Cam takes the opportunity to slap his tip against your pillow lips. He traces his fat head against your mouth, spreading his precum all around your pout, watching with lidded eyes as you lick your lips clean, your eyes locked on his. “You look so pretty, baby–fuck, you look pretty with your cum on my lips,” he mumbles.

Rafe’s tongue glides up your slit, sucking down on your clit; fingers plunging inside you. Your mouth hangs open as he sucks down, curling and scissoring his fingers. Cam pushes his cock between your lips, making you moan at the weight of him on your tongue. You wrap your fingers around his thick base, stroking where your mouth won’t reach. Cam runs a line of spit down on his cock; your fist working over him fast, keeping time with Rafe’s fingers deep in your pussy.

“Fuck, baby…” Cam moans. “Just like that.”

Rafe could feel your body getting close to yet another release, pounding his digits into you roughly, his other hand holding onto your fleshy hip to keep you from moving as Cam starts to pump deeper into your mouth.

Your lashes flutter shut as Rafe hits your G-spot again and again. Cam reaches down, wrapping his big hand around your throat, making your eyes flash open. “Not yet, princess… I’m almost there, alright? You’re suckin’ me so fuckin’ good,” he praises, his voice husky and worn with pleasure. “Don’t cum… Not yet.”

Your eyes screw shut, trying to listen, stars dancing behind your eyes as you fight against your body, the pressure of your pleasure almost too much to handle. You cry out around his cock as tears slide down your hot cheeks, Cam’s hold on your neck growing tighter.

“Cum for us,” Cam grunts, quickly filling your mouth with his warm cum. You swallow it all as your body falls apart, quickly reaching for a gasping breath.

Rafe doesn’t let up pounding you with his fingers through your orgasm. Cam reaches down, slapping at your clit, making you wail pathetically, both brothers going at you nonstop ‘til you’re gushing around their fingers.

Rafe hums out a moan, licking up the sweetness between your thighs. He lifts his hands, and you quickly take his fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean. Cam leans down, kissing you deeply, tasting you on your tongue, groaning against your lips. “Just as sweet as I remember, princess,” he mumbles against your mouth.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” Rafe sighs, completely pussy drunk. He kisses your clit, making you whimper in sensitivity, fingernails scratching into his hair. You tug his hair by the root, pulling him to your lips; he crawls toward you, eyes raking up your body. He looks down at you underneath him, his eyes softening as he sees your face looking up at him: glossy lips and wet eyes, the sparkly R pendant clinging to your dewy skin.

Rafe bites his lips, scrunching his nose as he’s hit with a wave of emotion, just knowing you never took it off, even after everything.

“I love you more than anything, princess,” he whispers.

“I love you too,” you breathe as tears shimmer in your eyes. You blink them away, and he cups your cheeks, brushing them away with his thumbs. Rafe leans down, kissing you gently, and it feels like home.

“Are you ready for us, baby?” He asks against your lips.

“M’ready,” you whisper.

“Ready already?” He asks through a breathy laugh, teasing you playfully, trying to push through his feelings.

“Please, baby…”

Rafe looks away and smiles, doing his best to collect himself, absolutely elated at the moment, before turning his focus back to you. “Greedy girl can’t wait to be filled, huh?”

“I’m a slut for Cameron cock,” you sigh breathlessly, repeating those words he said in the shower before that first night–the night that changed everything. Rafe chuckles deeply, looking down at you with lust and love as he brushes your hair off your face.

“Have I told you you’re perfect,” he subsists, rolling you on top of him fast, making you gasp against his lips.

You rise on your knees as Rafe takes his cock in his big hand, pumping his dick a few times as he takes you in. “I get your pussy,” he smiles.

“Well, shit,” Cam smiles as he slaps your ass playfully. “Keep gettin’ lucky, don’t I?” He leans in, kissing you gently, lingering on your lips as Rafe runs his throbbing tip up and down your folds. “You’re gonna let me fuck your pussy later. Aren’t you?” Cam asks, making you smile against his lips.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Think we both knew the answer to that, buddy… Just a whore for us, aren’t you, princess?” Rafe hums as he wraps his big hands around your hips. Rafe biceps flex as he pulls you lower, guiding you to fall on his cock nice and slow. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he pinches his head off the pillow, feeling your warm wet cunt swallow him up. Rafe lifts you off of him, using his strength to move you up and down, playing with your pussy like a toy.

Rafe drops his hand, pressing his fingers against your clit, making you throw your head to the ceiling as Cam’s muscular body moves flush with your back. “Feels so good, baby,” you whimper as your body trembles. Cam cups your tits in his ringed hands, squeezing as you start to bounce on Rafe’s cock; the wet skin between you and Rafe sticking and smacking together.

“Again?” Rafe asks through a breathy laugh, acting like he’s surprised to see you seconds away from another orgasm.

“Rafe-”

Cam lowers his grip, grabs your waist, and helps you bounce up and down, your eyes squeezed shut. Rafe smiles up at you wickedly, playing with your clit.

“I’m–Fuck. I-” You ramble as your body surrenders to your release. Cam lets you go, and your hands come down, gripping Rafe’s chest for dear life as your head hangs between your shoulders, trying to get your feet under you. And just when you start to have a semblance of control, you feel Cam’s fingers press against your tight hole, pussy clamping around Rafe.

“Relax, doll,” Rafe coos, his eyes loving but his tone almost condescending. “You’re good n’ wet.” Crack. He slaps your thigh, making your bottom lip quiver as you look down at him. “You’re so beautiful like this, princess,” he praises as he cups your cheek, slipping his thumb between your lips. You suck on it for a second, your body utterly numb with pleasure.

Rafe hisses out a breath as you bite down on his finger when Cam pushes into your second hole; Rafe chuckles teasingly, taking his hand away, eyeing the bite marks left behind as Cam wraps his arms around you, burying himself in your neck, his cock nestled in your ass; Rafe still buried balls deep in your cunt.

“Relax, baby,” Cam whispers. “You okay?”

“Mmm… Mhmm,” you sigh as the pain subsides, your trembling hand resting on your lower stomach, feeling the outline of Rafe’s long, thick cock pressing against it. Rafe rubs his thumb on your clit, his other hand squeezing your hip. You relax a little more, your body getting used to the feeling again.

“Doin’ so good for us, baby,” Rafe hails. Cam kisses along your neck as he draws out fucking back into you a little rougher. Your pussy clamps down around Rafe, making his brows tug together. “Goddamn… Feels so fucking good,” he mumbles under his breath as Cam starts to fuck into your ass hard and fast, making your pussy bounce on Rafe’s dick from Cam’s backshots alone.

“Rafe… Fuck, Cam,” you mumble drunkenly. Going so dumb on their dicks you can barely think. Rafe smiles at you blissfully, hooking his big hand around you to pull you to his mouth. Your trembling lips smash against his, the new angle making you gasp and cry even more. “I can’t…” You sniffle between gentle kisses.

“You are though… You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good,” Rafe whispers.

“Fuck, baby,” you whimper as Cam moans behind you, watching his thick cock plunge into your ass with each stroke.

“Does it feel good, princess?” Rafe asks as he sucks off your bottom lip.

“So fuckin’ good...”

“Then you gotta take it…”

Your climax sneaks up on you fast, bringing Rafe with it; his muscles tremble with yours as he fills you with his warm cum, your tight cunt milking every last bit of him as Cam fucks you through your orgasm, filling your ass with his seed as well.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” Rafe whispers

The night stretched on, Rafe and Cam, never letting you go. All the tension you held in your body seemed to ease in his arms. Their strong hands trace your bare skin, holding you like they’ve wanted to for weeks.

Apologies were said, but even so, the pain of the past few weeks lingered on, the sincerity in their beautiful eyes making you believe that you could get back to where you were before, maybe even somewhere better now that Cam’s here too.

Cam’s large hand rests gently on your body as he sleeps, snoring lightly behind you as you look at Rafe, wide awake, his beautiful eyes still on you like he’s afraid you’ll go away again.

“Baby,” he begins, his voice wavering, “Can you forgive me? Please.”

"Rafe..." Of course forgive you," you assure as you snuggle a little closer.

“I was nothin’ without you. You are the best part of me,” he whispers as he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing kisses on the top.

Without another word, Rafe tugs his ring off his finger, gliding it back onto yours and setting it back as if it has always belonged there–and it has. Rafe’s expression softens as he lives in your sweet words, knowing that you still wanted to be with him even after everything that had happened.

“We’ll take care of you like you take care of us. Alright?”

“Okay, baby…”

Rafe tips his forehead, sharing his breath with you. “I love you, princess.”

“I love you too.”

"I get you last... I always get you last," Rafe whispers breathlessly against your kiss.

"Always."

A/N: Alternate ending | Rafe x Reader Link

#rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron outer banks

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livelaughlovesubs · 1 day ago

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Hiii, Nini! Can I please request a Sigma x male reader fic with impact play? We've seen Sigma in fics getting absolutely decimated by the reader LMAO- I almost feel bad, so here's a twist, this is light impact play. Instead of spanks/floggers he can brace for, nope, feathers that make him jump out of his skin every time, giggling despite himself because wtf he's taken so much worse-. I think he'd absolutely lose it with the lighter/gentler stuff more so than the harder stuff purely because of how flustered he'd get XD. Ps I'm making it canon, you cannot look at him and tell me that stressed-as-hell man ain't ticklish.

Ahhhh so true!!! I imagine him as very sensitive and ticklish as well, like 🤤🤤 also since the gender wasn’t mentioned anywhere, you can interpret it however you want :]

Dom!reader x sub!sigma - reader is gn neutral

Warning: tickling/soft impact play, teasing, humiliation, slight dacryphilia (can’t write a fic without good’ol dacryphilia), using his hair as a brush???

Edit: started & finished this in the middle of the night, I’m so tired and I didn’t proof read it, also my brain is cooked idk what I did here

It’s been too quiet these days. Too boring, too mundane, too relaxing. There were many adjectives that would fit this little dilemma you were facing, called ‘dying of boredom’. You’ve been waiting around for your sweetheart to make a mistake, just so you’d have a reason to punish him. Yet how could it be that he’s so perfect in every way possible? You weren’t even exaggerating or meaning to sing his praises, heck you wanted him to be a little more human!

Otherwise you couldn’t think of a good reason to pull him out of his busy schedule, just to have him all to yourself, in such a selfish way. He wouldn’t agree, everyone knows how he puts his work above everything else. Such a horrible work ethic he has. Whatever, no one is perfect, even the manager of the sky casino will have to slip up somewhere, and you were way too eager to find it.

Sigma was just signing some documents as you watched him over his shoulder, taking sneaky peeks as if he hasn’t noticed you already. At this point he was probably wondering what you were doing. It didn’t bother you in the slightest, in fact, you knew due to you being so close, he’d get nervous and overthinking again. Something along the lines of: Did you want something from him? Why were you watching him all silently, so creepily?

And there it was— what you’ve been waiting for! “Sigma~ gosh, you clumsy thing! You wrote down the wrong date there, look.” You pointed it out a little too enthusiastically, eyes sparkling like morning sunlight, reflecting how excited you were. He glanced at you funnily, probably baffled why you were so happy about it. “Ah- yes, I see, uhh.. thanks, y/n.” Sigma furrowed his brows for a split second, then turned his attentions back to the papers. Though before he could continue writing, you snatched the pen out of his hand.

“Nope, you made a mistake sigma, and such a simple one as well. Tsk tsk tsk.” You faked a disappointment sigh, and facepalmed, putting your acting skills to use, “I’ll need to punish you, don’t you think?” So that’s what you’ve been waiting for, and probably the reason why you were so full of glee earlier. “A-are you serious..? For such a small thing?” Sigma looked taken aback, leaning his head back until he met your eyes. A slight blush was already convering his pale cheeks, such a naughty boy, he was excited as well.

“Why of course, it was a grave mistake after all. Stand up.” He was more ready to comply than you thought, not making any fuss as he stood up. “Good boy, now sit on the table.” You moved the chair away, pinning his body between your arms and gripping the edge of the furniture. Sigma glanced at you a few times, seemingly surprised with your demand. To be honest he expected you to bend him over your lap. This was fine as well, in fact, this position would prove itself to be more comfortable than what he initially predicted.

You were close, all up in his intimate space. He swore he could feel the heat radiating off your body. A slight blush covered his cheeks as he waited for your orders, already feeling the effects you had on him. It was almost terrifying how much control you had with just a few words. “Come on, you know how it goes. Strip.” After waiting for what felt like forever, you smirked as you whispered to him. “Ah- right. Sorry.” The boy replied half-minded, hands moving up to unbutton his vest.

This wouldn’t have been all that humiliating if it wasn’t for the fact that you were staring him up and down like some prey, watching his every move as he peeled off one layer after another. “Can’t you.. look in the other way?” He muttered in a meek voice, currently taking his pants off. “I’ve seen you nude plenty times darling,” you reached for his hands and helped him undress, “why are you still embarrassed?”

“You- stop teasing me..” The way his face flushed even more while he desperately tried to shake your hands off was so precious, you couldn’t stop grinning. “Ever thought it’s part of the punishment?” You asked, grabbing his thighs and spreading them apart. They were soft to the touch, and so squishy, his skin was flawless. “Ah-ahh… I’m- I’m really getting punished… over that little mistake?” He bawled his hands into fists, biting his lips to stop the trembling.

“I mean what I said.” He inhaled shakily, and breathed an equally unsure exhale. Eyes glossed over and half-lidded, body burning under your every touch. Poor boy was just preparing for the worst. You gave him a reassuring smile, then raised your hand right over his thighs. So it was going to be spanking, he thought and squeezed his eyes together. To his surprise, instead of the painful slap he expected, he was met with a teasing one. In response his body twitched involuntarily, and his eyes ripped open.

He didn’t flinch because of the pain, no there was no pain to speak of. There were only a soft, faintly red mark that gradually appeared on his inner thigh. Pretty much nothing worth mentioning, you left more marks when you grabbed his skin to spread his legs. “Erm… Y/n?” He couldn’t help but question your actions. That was a slip up, right? He’s taken so much worse, compared to all that you were basically caressing him.

Suddenly, another slap, though just as soft and gentle as the first one, making him jump out of his seat. “Wait- y/n, what are you doing?” It was such a light slap, can you even call it one? Wouldn’t tap be a more fitting description? “Punishing you. Why, do you want to be bullied instead?” You teased, followed by another slap, this time on the other thigh, and his toes curled. Why did this feel even more embarrassing than anything else? The sound was way louder and more dramatic than the actual impact.

“Ah- no but, seriously, what are you doing?” Out of nowhere you slapped his chest, once again it wasn’t painful in the slightest. He tensed together, still able to feel your touch in the places you’ve touched. “Shhh, be good and endure it for me, alright?” Instead of answering him, you stroked his fluffy hair, and smiled all self confident. The look on his face screamed confusion, but he trusted you, and so he simply swallowed the lump in his throat.

You grabbed a strain of his hair, one of the longer locks, sliding your hand through them, a little amazed at how untangled his hair was. As soon as you reached the ends, you held it fairly firm in your hand, and used it like a brush to graze over his skin. First over his cheeks just to annoy him, earning yourself a glare from him, then a feather-light brush over his nipples. He really didn’t know where you were going with this, but god did it rile him up.

It tickled, and it was so foreign, he couldn’t help but subconsciously clench his thighs together. Hands trembling from clenching his fists too hard, the pounding of his own heart echoing in his ears. You made sure to not touch him anywhere except with your hands, which made him all the more sensitive. Those touches were driving him mad, and that fact itself made him all the more flustered. You were barely doing anything, how could it be that he wanted to cry amidst all these sensations?

Soft, muffled whimpers slipped from his swollen lips, he arched his back forward whenever everything became too much. “Hnng- please, ah.. stop the t-teasing…! Hmm..!!” You carefully traced a line down his belly, resting your makeshift brush around his pelvis and moving it in a circling motion. As if all this wasn’t humiliating enough, he now knew why you had him sit on the table. All so you could observe his every move, every shameful expression and listen to every shaky breath he exhaled.

“Look at you getting all excited just from a few touches, you are way more needy than you’d like to admit, aren’t you?” “HnnGh..~ p-please.. ah-!!”He whined again, feeling you finally, finally giving his neglected dick some attention. Only using one finger to lazily rub his tip a few times, before using his hair to brush over the already sticky gland. His precum slowly dribbled from his slit, down his shaft before getting smeared around by you. “So messy.” Was all you had to say.

“Y/n, y-you’re so Mnn.. mean,” he squirmed around, shaking his head as tears rolled down his crimson cheeks, “I-i wanna cum…” you tilted your head to the side, sliding the bush of hair over his inner thighs, “that’s not how you ask for things, baby.” Then you used your other hand to rub his tears away, it ended up with him crying even more. “Such a crybaby, why don’t you try asking nicely?”

He gulped, trying to cease the sobbing for a moment, bending forwards as he let his head drop. The shame was eating at him, but he really couldn’t do this anymore~ which is why he looked up at you like a lost puppy, with glistening eyes and rosy lips, shaking ever so slightly as he begged, “please.. ha-Ahhh…I-i wanna cum♥︎ please m-make me c-cum..!!♡♡♥︎”

You smiled, staying quiet for a moment to raise the intensity and anticipation, then wrapped your arms around his shivering body. “You’ve been so good for me, and good boys deserve to be rewarded.”

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plumeria1 · 15 hours ago

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A morning with Vi

Note : English is not my language. I can't believe my Jinx x Reader has passed 100 likes thank you so much 🥹

Pairing : Vi x fem reader

Warning : None

Summary : Vi and You have a morning talk.

Modern!au Vander and the others are alive (Vi was in jail for another reason, honestly I didn't think of anything)

The day Vi got out of prison, her sister Powder came to see her, and Vi was delighted to see her brilliant little sister in perfect health. She had grown so much. Vi was proud, soon Powder would be heading to university to pursue an engineering program.

Vi held Powder in her arms for a long moment, but when she stepped back, she saw you. She was so surprised, you, her best friend since childhood, were there. You had confessed your feelings to each other one month before her arrest, you had promised to wait for her and you kept your promise.

That night, she didn't leave your side for a second; it was a long moment full of tenderness, your hands exploring each other's bodies all night long.

You spent a long time admiring her tattoos, running your hand over them and and kissing her freckles.

You didn't let go of each other, spending the whole night cuddling and talking about everything and nothing. She had told you everything that had happened in prison.

Since that day, she had moved into the small apartment you shared with Powder, and you never left each other's side.

1 year later :

After another passionate night, you had once again pushed the blanket to the foot of the bed. You lay in Vi's arms, her head resting on your chest as she always did, one of her legs was draped between yours and her fingers traced lazy patterns on your arm.

Vi lifted her head from your shoulder and looked at you with a tender smile. You look at her curiously.

-Why are you smiling ?

-Because I realized something.

-Oh really? And what is it ?

-Well, every time we make love, you always push the blanket to the foot of the bed.

You laughed, knowing it was true.

-It's because of you, you're too warm. And you do things like that too.

-Really?

-Yes, you always put your head on my chest and stay there for some minutes without saying a word. I want to know why.

Vi sighed, closing her eyes, as if debating wether to answer.

-It reassures me. When I was in prison I was alone, so when I rest my head on you I listen to your heartbeat. It reminds me that you are here and it makes me feel better.

You placed your hand on her head, gently running your fingers through her hair.

-I thought you were going to say something silly, but actually, it's a very romantic way to say "I love you."

-I also do it because your breasts are soft and comfortable.

Your mouth fell open in mock outrage before both of you burst into laughter. Vi loved that sound more than anything.

-You know, when we make love, you do something that I love.

-Mm?

-It's when you scratch my back with your nails, it stings a bit but it means you like what I'm doing so it worth it.

-How could I not like it when you do that with your mouth?

-What do you mean by that ? She pretended not to understand.

-You know, when you-

A knock at the bedroom door cut you off. You sighed, starting to get up but Vi held you back.

-Don't go, let her knock.

From the outside of the door, Powder voice called out.

-Vi, open up, there's a package for you. You need to sign.

Vi groaned dramatically, reaching for her clothes scattered on the floor. She opened the door and turn you back with a little smile.

-Go back to sleep, I'll be right back.

You winked at her with a playful smile.

-I'll keep your spot warm.

She closes the door and you get back into bed, taking her place, and now, deprived of your girlfriend's warmth, you pull the warm blanket over yourself. As you fall asleep, you think about how lucky you were to have her in your life.

Thank for your reading 😉 I hope you liked it

#arcane x reader #vi x reader #vi x you #vi fluff #vi x fem reader #arcane fluff

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lychgate · 3 hours ago

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i haven't posted a really poorly drawn thought piece adventure in years so here's a brief update!

hope i hit the read more thing right oh well anyway:

"Spent a lot of time applying for a home loan. I had to pay -fucked up- to have a convincing income for a decent loan. It was very confusing but cody helped me a lot."

"Cody proposed to me It felt wonderful that someone wanted to share their time and love with me. Cody proposed Anthrohio weekend, it's the con we really met at."

"We saw the listing that sunday morning before we had to go to our table to vend."

"It was a perfect house. We were the first people to view it and we immediately put in a bid. And we got the house. Many papers to sign."

"Moving was not easy. It took 2 whole months. Cody was out of town helping their grandma recover from a big surgery and we had to sell their old house/move that as well as move from my apartment. ALSO THE PETS: My cat dick wolf + Cody's 3 birds. Until we could get some doors installed and separate the house, I had to live between two places every day to feed and care for them."

"Still, life was good. I bought my first house! It has a swing in the backyard. I've never had my own backyard. I've never even lived somewhere that had trees (in said yard) It felt nice. Living together with the love of my life and 4 pets."

"Through all this i never closed my shop. How could I? It was my income, and I just bought a house. It needed to stay open. Moving that much inventory, setting up a new office, the house is a nice size but it's not huge, so, very careful organizing had to be executed if I wanted my apparel laid out right. (Which I totally managed to do)"

"but i Did get really good at baking pies. the two are connected."

"sacred_crow on instagram!"

"there's like 25 of u bastards i would absolutely die for, and about 75 more that i would go nearly dead over."

"We have an extra bedroom so I got to turn it into a toy room. There's games, crafts, stuffed animals, movies, a sick loft I painted the shit out of. It rules. It brings me a lot of Joy."

"Under the loft we have a dug out where we can watch VHS tapes. I love to sit with Cody and watch movies and play Donkey Kong."

"I am not good at Banjo Kazooie, but Cody is. Cody is so talented. I love watching them play games. (Depicted is not banjo kazooie but donkey kong country 2 as we are currently playing that. I'm good at DKC but I will still swear and make sounds like im about to throw up)"

"Half the basement is finished, so we turned it into a dual office space. It rules. Cody has a whole side for fursuit crafting, and my side is mostly my gigantic gamer computer area/shipping area. I took a whole wall to put all my non apparel merch like pins charms and notebooks also. for hte love of god someone buy the notebooks they take up more space then i wanted"

"I love to look over from my computer and see cody working. They always look so focused, yet peaceful."

"It's winter but it rains. I miss the snow. I lived by the lakes growing up. I miss piles of snow. It's just wet and cold here. Yes i'm quite aware of global warming"

"I got kicked off both my health and car insurance. I fixed the car one but health insurance still no. All my meds have gone away. The past few months have been hard. I think way too much lately. I can't get myself to do anything. -this is a whole page of downer bullshit and i cropped it!-"

"We had a leaky ceiling that took a month to fix. Cody did all the work because they are smart and kind."

"Oh yeah I had my uterus removed earlier this year. They let me keep it. It's in a jar in my living room."

"We threw a very nice halloween party. I was the green m&m. Cody was the monarch."

"We adopted 8 beautiful kiwis from a crane machine at the mall. we spent over 100 monies to get them but it was worth it."

It was a rough year. My health is in decline. Our country may try to end my life for being trans soon (lol?) I am in hte middle of a colossal mental breakdown of my core fundamental behavior (depression advanced) BUT ALSO: I am engaged to my favorite person. We bought a house together. I'm beginning a new chapter of my life. I have a swing in my backyard. The negatives suck but there are also many positives. The cycle of emotions is immense, but there is beauty in it. There is beauty in life, and isn't that wonderful?"

#my art

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holmesianlove · 1 day ago

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Chapter 31 - Retirement (Epilogue)

“The bees were restless this morning. I think a storm might be coming through today,” Sherlock mentioned as he glanced over the print of his newspaper. He didn’t look at John. It was a habit of old. He would start a conversation but continue the task he was on.

“Oh?” John replied, removing his glasses and looking up from his book. He enjoyed this ritual of theirs. “I was going to suggest a stroll to the village for dinner tonight. It’s our anniversary.”

Sherlock let his paper drop down to look over at John. “It’s not. We were married in June, John. You’re too young to be going senile.”

John smirked. “Not that one.”

“How many anniversaries does one have?” Sherlock checked looking confused.

John pulled an item out of his pocket and held it up.

“You know my eyesight isn’t that good,” Sherlock moaned, not even bothering to squint to try and see it.

“And I’ve told you to go back to the optometrist, so it’s your fault entirely isn’t it?” John teased. “You will just have to wait.” He returned the item to his pocket with glee and put his glasses on to return his focus to his book.

Sherlock didn’t move. John could feel him glaring, thinking, brow furrowed, calculating but no retort came.

“In any case, let’s see what the weather does. We still have that lamb I can cook up if the weather is against us,” John suggested.

“I’ve heard they invented a fantastical object that you can hold up and it actually stops you from getting wet in the rain. Marvellous,” Sherlock said full of sarcasm, pulling his newspaper back into line with a smirk.

John snorted and shook his head, and the room returned to its original state - silent companion reading.

Twenty five years to the day, John thought to himself. But he waited. He waited all day.

The rain did come and had set in but the storm had eased off to a more gentle, steady rain. John decided that the stroll would do Sherlock some good anyway. His joints had been freezing up quite a bit lately and he needed to get out and move more. John found their two umbrellas in the cupboard beside the door and waited patiently for Sherlock to make his way down the stairs.

He was wearing a lovely suit. One of John’s favourites. He clearly respected the occasion even if he didn’t remember what it was for.

They strolled hand in hand down the road to the village, mostly in silence, looking around them. The occasional comment would surface, about their neighbour’s property, the farm down the road must have bought more sheep, had the little girl been riding the ponies again, she hadn’t been seen for a while, the pot hole at the junction had gotten bigger and they would need to be mindful of it when they had to drive out for Christmas with Mycroft and his partner. Just general conversation followed by comfortable stretches of silence.

John finally slowed his pace further, bringing them to a halt at the crest before the village. He loved this spot. From here you could see across all the fields. You could see the top of their cottage roof in one direction, and in the other, you could see the village row of shops below. The rain had slowed too, ever so slightly so he put down his umbrella and fished the item out of his pocket, settling himself under the edge of Sherlock's umbrella instead.

Sherlock watched him carefully unable to see what it was but excited for the surprise. John was cupping it secretly in his hand.

“Sherlock Holmes,” John began.

“Yes John Holmes-Watson,” Sherlock interjected with a cheeky smile.

John flashed him an irritated glance. He hated being interrupted. These days, he was likely to lose his train of thought.

“Sherlock Holmes,” he began again. He had practiced this. Over and over. “I was cleaning the spare room out the other day and I found a box of your things. I don’t think it’s been opened since we moved here, since we retired to the country. At least, the dust would say as much. And I found this,” he said, opening his hand and holding the item up so Sherlock could see it. Finally, Sherlock’s eyes began to sparkle with recognition, and a little mist, it seemed.

“I was reminded of the fact that it’s actually been twenty five years,” John continued. “Twenty five years ago you stole this mistletoe and held it above my head,” he said with a smile. “I didn’t see you grab it back out of the snow. I didn’t know you still had it.”

Sherlock’s eyes were glistening properly now. And for once in his life he was speechless.

John gave a gentle smile.

“You were the only man who could make me run without a cane in a matter of hours, or leave the city for a quiet country life together, or get married, despite all my arguments to the contrary. You have always been my exception. To everything. And I thank God every day you stole this bloody mistletoe and showed me how much you needed me. Because I needed you just as much.”

“I know,” Sherlock managed to choke out. He reached over and took the mistletoe from John’s hand. He moved it around in his own hand looking at it like a rare gem. “I forgot I had it, too,” Sherlock sighed. “Poor Molly.”

“She did just fine. Four kids, ten grandkids. She had a good life, Sherlock," John said, with reverence, remembering their friend, passing from cancer only a year ago. "And a much better life, I imagine without you.”

“Hey!” Sherlock grumbled.

“You weren’t meant for her,” John said gently. “You were always meant for me. It just took us a while to find our way.”

“It took you a while,” Sherlock teased.

“Well, maybe if someone stopped drugging my tea, or stealing my laptop, or turning my skin green, I might have noticed,” John said with a smile.

“Oh my goodness, I’d forgotten about the green!” Sherlock exclaimed, chuckling to himself as John rolled his eyes.

“And this is why we have retired. I feel you used those brain cells up at a faster rate than the rest of us,” John teased. “But I was certain you would have had a shelf in the mind palace for Elpheba-John.”

Sherlock snort laughed and John joined in. But then Sherlock stopped laughing and looked lovingly into John’s eyes. He lifted the mistletoe up.

He leaned in part way and John met him in the middle. Under the old, crumpled mistletoe, they shared a chaste, but loving kiss beneath Sherlock’s umbrella.

“There is no one else in this world I would have wanted to marry and retire to the country with, John Watson. It’s always been you. From the very beginning.”

“Watson-Holmes,” John finally corrected. “We agreed. After much argument, I recall. And you know I rarely get to win. So I will keep reminding you.”

“Oh yes. As ever, you are right, my love,” he said, returning the mistletoe safely to his own jacket pocket. "I love you John Watson-Holmes.” He held out a crooked elbow. “Dinner?”

John took it and then rested his head onto his husband’s shoulder as they shared the one umbrella. “Starving,” he said.

And so they began to walk to the village arm in arm to celebrate. Best friends, lovers, husbands, destined to find each other. Always.

The end.

Dear readers - thank you so much for sticking with me across December. I hope you enjoyed this story. It was a new adventure for me, to try and tackle a chapter each day and try to lead it in a direction that linked in some vague way without really knowing where it was going. I have a new appreciation for all of you who do these prompt months on the regular! I’m ready for a break now!! Navigating some Tumblr after all these years has been fun too. So thank you for everyone that engaged with me and made it fun! And thanks @notjustamumj and @totallysilvergirl for enticing me to try it!

Happy New Year to you all. May 2025 bring you new creative inspiration or more wonderful fics to read.

If you enjoyed this, you can find more of my writing on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/holmesian_love

I really appreciate the support xx

@lisbeth-kk @helloliriels @221beloved @safedistancefrombeingsmart

@givemesherbet-blog-blog @naefelldaurk @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @peanitbear

@starlitkeys @lumilama @yorkiepug @talkativeanxiousturtle @kettykika78

@kittenmadnessandtea @whatnext2020 @egregiously-chuffed @chriscalledmesweetie @catlock-holmes

@battledress @kholkate @randomquadballpun

@sillygirlsmindpalace @johnlockficclub @rainstarboii @bheadhe

@wssh13 @br-nz @solarmama-plantsareneat @givemesherbet-blog-blog

@dw91165 @pileofstardust2106 @moonkeller @surprisinglyokay @r4venlyn

@therealalexisamess-blog @e-b1838 @rhasima @salmonsown @tropelovingpainter

@westandforships @fuck-off-watson-rp @melodious-me @sherlocke3d

@otter-von-bismarck @silvergoldsea @calaisreno

#sherlockbbc #bbc sherlock #sherlock fandom #fanfic #johnlock #angsty #ao3 fanfic #sherlock holmes #john watson #holidaze2024 #December Prompts

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the-100-days-of-junkan · 2 days ago

Text

Day 90

Alright. So you might be thinking, pondering, desperately contemplating to yourself a simple question.

“JEM. WHAT THE FUCK??? WHY????” And I hear you, I get it, it’s a lot to take in out of nowhere and that’s the point. Sit with me, peer into the biohazard that is in my brain as I explain to you why in the name of all that’s good I made a fucking Music Video.

So last time on the 100 Days of Junkan, for Day 80 I got very silly and animated a gif of Junko and Mikan kissing. And as I keep saying over and over again, every 10 pics I wanted to go BIGGER. And maybe this is just the brainrot causing all of my mental functions to degrade past the point of no return, but the only way up at this point was in fact a music video.

But surely I couldn’t. I mean, I only have that single gif as experience with animation! How the fuck could I try and put myself through a process that I have absolutely no experience making something as ambitious as a Music Video! I’ll have to do something else. But then.

I had a thought, a small thought, an evil little thought that wormed its way into my head and didn’t leave.

“Okay. But wouldn’t it be really funny if you sent a full Junkan music video to Val without any warning?” That was it. I was beaten, I couldn’t counter that. The sheer comedic shock value of keeping my wonderful oomfie, the one who has helped motivate me through this entire project, who has given amazing responses to all of these pics as I made them, completely in the dark over this, and then finally with no context, or warning, or even a hint, dropping a fucking music video on her lap and running away like I’m pranking someones god damn doorbell. It was too much, even moreso considering I could do the same with ya’ll!

You! My varied followers, the silent and the vocal, or even better the random fucking people who have been staring in confusion as the Junko and Mikan tag got flooded with art of these two kissing out of nowhere for like three fucking months. I had an opportunity to send everyone into surprise and confusion because why the fuck did I make a god damn music video??? How??? It was too fucking funny to pass up!

This is easily the most fucking bizarre thing I’ve done for the entire event! Did any of you think this was the path this would go down?? Did any of ya’ll see that I made a gif and think “Surely this scrawny white bitch also made a Music Video.” I doubt it! But if you did, my undying respect goes to you!

So here we are. A Music Video. A fucking Music Video, one which I now have to talk about. It took a full fucking page just to get to the point where I actually talk about it and this took me THREE MONTHS TO MAKE, spanning from May 8th to August 1st!

So here’s what I’m gonna do. First, I’m gonna talk about MAKING this fucking thing, and then when I finish that I’m going to switch over to talking about the actual contents of the music video. This is going to get really messy and will probably go into tangents, but ya’ll have hopefully coped with the knowledge that this is going to be a lot of words by the time you hit the end of this sentence. (Future Jem here! I think this was actually shorter than Day 60) So without further delay-

The Making of Snow Fairy, a Junkan Music Video. Yes. Really.

So the first step of this was obviously, The Music. What song would I use for this? Well initially the plan was to animate something using the song “Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed.” And if that name sounds familiar, yes, it is the song that Val’s fic was named after. Now the idea wasn’t to adapt her fanfic into a music video (or at least it wasn’t the idea for more than 5 minutes). I was simply going to use this song to make a music video depicting a romantic journey with these two. So why not this song?

IT’S LIKE 6 FUCKING MINUTES. Not to jump ahead of myself here but I can’t make it any clearer for ya’ll, that Gif from Day 80??? That was it. That was all I had going into this. I didn’t do any other practice, I didn’t make anything else like that gif. I made that gif, took like two weeks to make Days 81-89, and jumped into a music video. And yes, that’s fucking stupid, but you’ve all learned by this point that I don’t make sensible choices. I draw women kissing, scream, and feel endless euphoria- I got so off topic already, sorry.

Anyway that’s a 6 minute song and I had very little experience, even I knew that wasn’t gonna be viable without driving my head into the wall from stress. And while the idea of me dialing it back sounds unheard of given my track record, I did in fact scale back massively.

So I pondered, and eventually came to a quite frankly obvious answer.

youtube

(Sorry I could only find an AI Upscaled version with interpolation)

Snow Fairy, the first opening of Fairy Tail, AKA, my favorite piece of fiction. And Snow Fairy is my favorite anime opening of all time, if not just straight up my favorite song ever. The fact that it wasn’t my first thought is a shock. Though that still brought on some questions.

Firstly. What version? Because yes I actually had options. I could either use the original song in Japanese, or the english cover by LeeandLie. I was close to picking the original version by Funkfist, but there was two issues. One, because it was in another language that means I would have had to taken the time to put in subtitles and keep them properly timed, which would have just been one more thing on an already massive workload. The second reason is also why I went with LeeandLie’s version, I just like the translation for the lyrics a bit more. At least in terms of how well I think it works for a Junkan Music Video. So we had the cover of the song I was gonna use, next question.

Full Song? Or the intro edit? Because the version used in the anime is obviously much shorter, and not just that actually includes the very end of the song pasted to a much earlier part of it. So if I wanted to use the shorter version I would have needed to actively edited the song.

After much thought I chose to ask my friend (and now current girlfriend) Yves to edit the song to match the intro version of Funkfists cover and worked from there. Because even if I would have loved to use the full song, that’s around 3 minutes, which for essentially a beginner sounds like fucking torture.

So I had a song around 1 minute and 28 seconds to work with. Much easier- WRONG. WRONG IT WAS STILL PAINFUL. WHY DID I DO THIS- Anyway.

We had our song! Now we had to make the actual video!

Step 1, I actually made a Storyboard, this is the smartest thing I will do during this entire process.

As you can see from this lil joke doodle I made during the process, I didn’t even start the actual video before I had realized I had made a massive mistake, however I was of course going to persevere. The Storyboard took about, 2? 3 days? This is mostly because I had other work to prioritize, and I had to make sure I got this pretty solid. Here it is!

(The file name for this has the phrase "Why god Why" btw)

As you can see it’s very, very professional.

You can also see there were a few things cut or changed, and even stuff that wasn’t there in the first place. That’s because even if I was going into this with more of a plan compared to other parts of this, I still really had no idea what I was getting into nor how to do it. The scene of all the girls doing their hair was cut because it just seemed like an awkward space filler to try and mimic the actual Snow Fairy Intro animation. In hindsight I do wish I kept it or found a replacement rather than just extending the following scene. And yeah that scene had to be super extended so I could actually time things properly.

As for the scene at the end, the various art pieces flashing in the background (which I will talk about later) were done because I realized without them I had way too much dead air in the scene. I then took advantage of it to show a montage of time passing in the scene itself, of the things that differed from the storyboard that’s the one I’m happiest with.

Storyboard has passed so now I have to talk about making the video itself, i feel like i’ve said some variation of that sentence like 5 times now.

So do you want a fun fact? THIS WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE ANIMATED! This was supposed to be an Animatic, and even that might not be the right word. This was supposed to be basically a storyboard with hints of motion, say for the intro with Monokuma which I always planned to properly animate given his simplistic design. Everything else was supposed to be much simpler.

And then I kept. Accidentally. TRYING TO ANIMATE IT. I DON’T KNOW HOW YOU EVEN DO THAT BY ACCIDENT! And like sure, none of it really gets as meticulous as the Monokuma, but I still ended up learning way more about animating things properly during this project because I just couldn’t help myself. It was always “Well just one more frame to make it look right. One more frame. Okay just another- Oh no.” This is the depths of hell this ship has dragged me to, and even if I haven’t had a chance to fully make use of what I learned here because I’ve been busy, Junkan somehow made me into a fucking animatory at least to the degree of a hobbyist. IF YOU TOLD ME THAT A FEW YEARS AGO I’D THINK YOU WERE LYING! Because if you asked me before this year about my opinion on animating, I’d tell you something around the lines of-

“God I wish I could, but I just don’t have the patience for that y’know?” I GUESS THAT DOESN’T MATTER WHEN IT'S A NICHE SHIP?? Mind you this was still when I was under the impression I was going to get backlash for all this, I didn’t care but I certainly thought it would come to me. The hold these two have on my brain is downright COMICAL.

And I’m sorry if I sound like this is me complaining at all, because I’m really not, I just get more excitable and whacked out during these more high effort projects. This ship has brought me immense joy on its own, and making this project despite the exhaustive work it took to do so has been so fulfilling in part thanks to being able to see the joy my work has brought all of you. I wouldn’t trade this for anything.

But you gotta fucking admit, this isn’t fucking normal right?? None of this is normal! And I don’t mean that in a “We’re all weirdos for liking this” kind of way I mean that in a “What the fuck is going on with me specifically” kind of thing because what is ANY of this?? I re-learned how to write (loosely at least), learned how to actually paint in my program, have developed a deeper understanding of both myself and how to portray expressions, have just generally gotten better at drawing cause of this, memorized these fucking designs almost perfectly (almost, i know there’s some small details of Junko’s design i leave out and Mikan’s apron can be a challenge at times), learned how to animate, LEARNED HOW TO MAKE A MUSIC VIDEO ON ONE GIF OF EXPERIENCE, made angsty shipping art for the first time, and god fucking KNOWS what else that I’m forgetting. And that’s ignoring that by this point we’re edging so much closer to me being able to say “I’ve drawn Junkan 200 fucking times” any god damn day now.

If this isn’t abnormal human being behaviour, it at the very least has to be really fuckin funny behaviour, right?? Am I just overthinking this??

Oh god, right, the main topic. Sorry about that it’s just been eating away at me the sheer absurdity of this project when I really step back and think about it.

Anyway making the vid, I did have a LOT of help from my girlfriend @sunmellows, who actually does have animation experience. She’s more versed in using sprites to animate, but a lot of the techniques could be carried over to what I was doing here. That segment of Mikan and Mukuro running along past a bunch of characters? She helped me so much to get the walk cycles perfect for that.

She also helped me make sure I could actually show this fucking video to people, because fun fact. I made this on an absolute piece of shit laptop! And at first it was relatively fine when I exported projects. But when I got to the point of being actually close to completion? Oh my god not only did it take hours, it just didn’t even work. It would basically KILL my laptops performance to the absolute limit until I would eventually have to force restart the thing. Which thank god didnt’ corrupt the fucking file. So when it came to the final export, I handed off the file to her and she graciously exported it out of clip studio, and then made some minor edits to the timing of the animation in a video editing program.

This is also why, much to my constant irritation, there are still a few animation errors in this because if I fixed them, I’d have to re-export the entire video. And sure, my current laptop is 10 times better and might not try to invent a new form of agony trying to manage it, but also i’m not waiting like 2 or 3 hours for that to happen. No matter how painful it makes rewatching this video. Cause i don’t actually like rewatching this one usually, I’m very proud of it but as I’ve said in the past I am a vicious perfectionist when it comes to my work, so its hard for me to ignore every issue and oddity in the video.

I was fucking losing it by the end of this, I was pulling late nighters for like a week while trying to work on the last few scenes and fix up whatever I could, which was hard because I lacked a convenient way to just watch the whole video in good quality and speed, since playing it in my art program resulted in constant stuttering and made it impossible to tell if it would really look like that, and again, trying to export it made my laptop hate me. But on August 1st I finished it, I had to stay up till 6 AM to do it but I did in fact, fucking do it. I passed it off to Yves, she exported it after some technical difficulties, and now we’re here.

It was, wild, trying to keep this a secret. And i’m not just talking the 3 months I had to keep it quiet to Val (Though that was difficult but VERY worth it yes), but also keeping it secret up till this point. I don’t even know how many fucking months I’ve had to keep this quiet so none of you would find out about it, I’ve been anxiously waiting to see everyone's reactions to this fucking video, and at the time of writing we’re on like, Day 76. I still have so much more time I need to wait! I’m probably gonna be a nervous wreck the day this actually goes up!

Would I ever do this again? God I fucking hope not! (the answer is yeah someday)

I should actually talk about what’s IN the music video now, shouldn’t I? Will be mildly difficult because that’s probably gonna require a lot of rewatching, and as I already said looking at this music video does make my perfectionist brain scratch bad a bit.

Okay so Monokuma.

So originally the plan for this was for the vid to be a much closer 1-to-1 of the actual opening version of Snow Fairy, and while it did eventually evolve into more of its own thing (both functioning as its own slightly more unique intro for Junkan but also just becoming a more normal music video) the one thing that i always wanted for this was to recreate the first few seconds of the intro but with Monokuma. When this was meant to be significantly less like, animation-y, he was gonna be the only part I went fully into.

It was a real pain in the ass but this guy was basically my crash course on properly animating thanks in part to his simple design. He’s also brought much laughter to my girlfriend! On discord i have this part of the vid saved as a gif, and completely divorced from the context of the music vid it just looks like a silly as gif of Monokuma flying away. Like where the fuck are you going dude??

For the remainder of the first bit I wanted to include Hope’s Peak and Jabberwock island since they’re the most iconic locations in the series, granted, jabberwock feels very irrelevant in a non-despair AU but shhhh. The LOGO! I wish I had the actual thing in my files but I guess I just never thought to save it as it’s own thing. And I’m too scared to open the actual file for the music video to just copy paste it out of there because fun fact, the whole thing is ALL one file. Tip from the Ametuer here, don’t fucking do that.

I’m still really happy that I managed to find the actual font for the Fairy Tail logo to make this with, equally happy that I also managed to sneak in one more reference to Val’s work again! It is once again the tattoo design, because I just can’t help myself y’know?

After that we hit me actually doing this and for a brief moment you get to see it actually be about as slide-showy as I had initially planned on before I decided I was gonna learn how to do a proper run cycle and that took like two fucking days i think. Very proud of it though, Mikan and Mukuro’s little runs were very fun to animate and I like the stupid ass slide I made Mukuro do. I actually wanted to make a stupid animation of her rail grinding using those frames, clearly I didn’t.

Oh also yeah this style was reused for the cover of the Day 60 Comic, partially because I wanted to retroactively sprinkle bits of this animatic into whatever prior posts I can, partially because i really could not think of an actual cover for that comic.

So since I was trying desperately to make this seem like the opening to some kind of Junkan Series (and again that concept for the vid dies out real quick) I decided to just include as many other characters as possible during these running scenes. Not only because it would be very fun to draw some of them in this fucked up chibi style I started doing on the fly, but also because then I could insert like three whole ships that I like. We got the Ruruseiko, the Tokomaru, the Ikuzonobuki because hey someone had too.

Fun fact there was supposed to be a little pop up of Mukuro with heart eyes in the corner when Sayaka and Ibuki showed up, but I either scrapped cause I couldn’t make it look right with the limited frames I had, or I accidentally hid all of its layers and couldn’t find it. I can’t remember, this project turning out as well as it did is quite frankly a miracle.

The train scene I don’t really remember why I did like, full linework and shading for that while the rest of the fuckin vid is just sketches. I guess it was fully still animation so it wasn’t that big of a deal. Drawing the very silly little shots of them going by the train was a lot more fun though, I also used it to reference a few more pieces from the past!

The first shot of them with Angie was a reference to the Day 70 Piece, since I always kinda headcanoned (yeah headcanoning my own art, that makes sense) that it was Angie who made it. Then we got Day 82, which at the time of writing this hasn’t been posted! Flashback to whatever day that Karaoke pic with the Ikuzonobuki trio was on for the shot of Junko watching Mikan sing.

And then after that is the Flatwoods monster part, which is the really fun one because I have no idea if I’ll have drawn anything for that by the time this gets released. I really want to though because I love the Flatwoods Monster and I love Junkan, so why not combine them! Alas, I’m working on the December 24th comic as I write this so I might not have time to make that on time.

Yasuke and Tsumugi! I’ve given my thoughts on them before of course, I think during Day 60? My brain at this point just felt very inclined to include them in this, Yasuke especially. Even if just as a very small cameo I kinda just associate these two with Junkan? Admittedly it’s mostly because of Val’s fic, I won’t act like that isn’t just the blueprint for everything in the junkan portion of my brain.

I also used this opportunity to once more make up for the fact that I had drawn so very little kabedon content in this whole project.

After that this probably becomes the cheesiest thing i’ve ever made. The scene of Mikan looking sad was another scene directly based off of the original opening this all based on. After the spin transition I put a little too much effort into was supposed to be a shot of Junko doing Mikan’s hair while Mukuro and Sayaka try to do the same with Ibuki. If I remember the timeline of events I realized I couldn’t make this scene last until the next scene on the storyboard without dragging it out, so I was gonna try adding other little vignettes of antics. However in a rare act of self care I decided to not make this any harder on myself and just scrapped it, skipped to the next storyboard, and extended it out to fit the time. Do I like this in the longrun?? Ehhhhhh, personally I think I shoulda just sucked it up and just added some smaller shots, but miraculously I have people who care about me and would probably prefer it if I didn’t destroy my body for a music video, so I probably made the right choice.

Those outfits look kinda familiar! Whether because I was struggling to think of a new outfit, or because I had just drawn a kabedon, I decided to reuse the outfits from Day 74! Junko’s was a pain in the ass to animate! Never again! Also I colored the Boba to match my pride headcanons for both of them, Mikan being bi and Junko being pan. One kiss and another god damn spin transition i put too much effort into making look good, and we’re at the last scene.

And there’s a mildly fun story for the art used in the background. Like I already said, they were added last minute because the scene would be dead air without them. However I could have done more little clips and vignettes and not fully drawn art pieces. So why did I do fully drawn art pieces?? I was starving, of course.

You all know my rule that I’m not allowed to draw any Junkan before the current one on the project is finished, correct? Well guess who wasn’t able to draw any normal junkan for like 3 months because I had to focus on making a music video. I can reread a bunch of fics or stare at art forever but the desperate and violent urge to make more and add to the pile so my brain feels nice is insatiable, especially with the rate I was making these previously before the music video began production.

Sooo, making some last minute assets seemed like a pretty good excuse to finally draw something fresh. And it was a fucking blessing on my brain at this point.

I tried to do a runthrough of their relationship up to this point, flashing back all the way until their first encounter. Was this a thinly veiled excuse to realistically include a halloween pic? Yes. But hey, that last shot was always planned so on some level I have to be justified in my actions. Let’s talk about these pieces one at a time.

First up, hey, that kinda looks familiar. That’s right, assuming the stars aligned and allowed me to gain the strength to draw the December 24th Comic all on time (I’m 17 pages in at the moment send past me your strength, time travel is real if I say it is), then you might notice that I just took the outfits for this winter-y art and featured them in the story!

So I did in fact draw the Halloween art first and realized I could probably do something vaguely interesting with a timeline of events, so I realized it would probably be best to put the winter art BEFORE October, because I like to dream of a year where I can celebrate Halloween and not freeze to death. It just also happens that it kinda conveniently fits the current time! Since this is releasing in winter! A miracle.

This ones pretty simple obviously, I unfortunately have nothing impressive or interesting to say on the art itself, more just stuff surrounding it.

Now the Halloween Art. Well i also don’t have a lot to say there either but god dammit i’ll sure as hell try!~

Listen I wasn’t fully confident that I would have the project done in time for Halloween, and as I’ve probably said before (or at least implied), while I could certainly draw more art on my own time after the 100 days were ready, until this was a public thing and the world was made well aware of my obsession, I couldn’t post it. It is extremely good luck (and also burnout) that I was able to get this done in time to actually post during October, so I did get to draw Halloween Stuff! But when I was making this?? I saw an opportunity to say “fuck it” and draw something spooky with these two, my favorite holiday and (probably) my favorite ship?? Yes please!

As for designing their halloween outfits I sure did fucking wing it! Yeah no thought process, just spooky as fuck.

Though something interesting about this art that my girlfriend pointed out is that the way I shaded and colored it matches up a lot with my older art. Since I’m not gonna drag through my old gallery to find good examples the best way I can sum it up is that my coloring style back in the day was a lot more candy colored. If that makes sense? More saturated colors I guess? Whenever I look at pieces like those and this I just think of a bowl of colorful candy.

I miss drawing like that, I don’t know what changed. It’s hard to go back, but maybe i’ll try.

The next shot might seem familiar, but not to any of my other pics, but rather a fic! When writing my Vampire Junkan AU I decided that I wanted to do an Aquarium Date for one of the bigger chapters, because as we all know, Fish and Vampires go together like chocolate and peanut butter. When writing it I was thinking of when I wanted to do the big kiss scene, and this art came to mind! So while it’s not very 1 to 1, I tried my best to recreate it through words.

Why did I draw aquarium art in the first place? I wanted to draw a sunfish . . . I’m a very simpleminded woman in most cases y’know?

The next image was actually even more last minute than the other 3, cause even with those I didn’t have enough to cover the timeframe of the scene. Soooo, Junko giving Mikan a flower.

Maybe this was her confessing? Asking her out? I haven’t thought about it enough.

And after so long we’re finally back to me just ripping straight from the original opening this is based off of, and in the original its a very sentimental memory for one of the main characters. So pretty early on alongside the Monokuma bit I knew I should have that specific last flashback be their first meeting. I think this is like, my 4th or 5th time depicting a first meeting between these two? It’s always fun to do, and the one in this music vid I think you can tell was decently inspired by Kayleen’s “Smile” Fic, albeit not a direct adaptation and with like, 2% more whimsy.

And a proposal!! We all crack eventually and there was only so god damn long I could stop myself from depicting one, and what better place than an ill advised music video? Also the gleam of the ring just made for a really good transition out of this and I’m still shocked by how well I was able to make it look.

And that’s it! I feel like I didn’t talk about this one as much as I thought I would?? Granted I think this is still one of the longer rambles I’ve gone on, but given the jump in scale I thought this’d be a bit more, excessive??

I already said earlier but for as, fucking agonizing as this was, I will probably, someday, try to do another animation like this. Hell I’m collaborating with my Girlfriend on a VS Project right now and I’m hoping to at least do small bits of actual animating on it. Which I think I can do??

As for music videos, welllll I do have two in mind, one is Vampire Junkan (though not in the way you think), and the other doesn’t specifically focus on Junkan but it sure will have a Billy Joel song.

So what’s up next??

Well I’m just gonna say this now, Day 100 does not go higher in scale than this, I won’t say what it is but its like, normal. Day 99 should be fun though! As for 91 through 98? Well! We’ve got 8 days of Fanfics! I didn’t write anything don’t worry. I made 8 pictures based off of 8 fanfics, with only one repeat author! There’s reason for that though you’ll see. There’s some direct adaptations of scenes, covers for the story, and like, something more based off the vibe, it’s hard to describe. You’ll see.

Gonna try my best to sing the praises of the fics themselves though I worry that I won’t be able to adequately sing the praises of these stories to the same degree that I did on Day 60, so hopefully I can at least convince ya’ll to give them a read yourself!~

Here’s hopin ya’ll enjoy the results!

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

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tinyfantasminha · 2 days ago

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Hi op! Just wanted to say I love your art and your oc, and of course your brainrots over Jack 🫶 they made me like and appreciate Jack a lot more! If it's okay to ask, how did you ended up liking him? Was he already a fave from the start or did he worm your way into your heart gradually? And (if you're comfortable ofc) what made you decide to yume with him?

Hope you have a good new years!! 💕

AAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH CRYING ON MY KNEES.....!!!!! This makes me so jkgjgjfkdjkfkh,,gfhfgjddjfh ...... thank you so much 😭💕

No matter how many people still say to me they've come to appreciate Jack more because of me I can never get used to it but it's still a wonderful feeling!! Like YES that's what I want !! Love Jack Howl!!

Anon, you just opened pandora's box...... I wished I could answer that in a few words, but I can't. Too much thoughts, too much words I need to get out of my chest. FINALLY THIS OPPORTUNITY HAS COME... *rubs hands*

I might as well put up the whole Jack-loving saga from start to present in chronological order. This is gonna be a VERY long post. (a lot of spoilers and thoughts on book 2 and 3)

To tell the truth, no, Jack was not an immediate fave! I remember seeing the official promotional art for the dorms back in 2019 before the game even released. The ones that immediately got my attention first were Leona, Ruggie, Malleus and Silver. HJDDHHGNJDSD I remember being immediately excited seeing savanaclaw cause they tick a lot of boxes I like… ''ohh??! furry kemonomimi dorm with edgy biker aesthetics?!'' <- is obsessed with leather jackets. But I regret to say that Jack didn't catch my attention, aside from the wolf ears. I-It makes me sad to remember that I judged him at first… 😭 Since Leona and Ruggie are smirking in their official sprite, and Jack looks so overly serious and closed off. BUT BOY, IF ONLY YOU HAD TOLD ME BACK THEN THAT I WOULD HAVE A 4+ YEAR OBSESSION WITH THIS WOLF GUY…………

I had missed the game's launch (march 2020) and only got to know they had already released it when I saw an user on facebook sharing screenshots of their game. Before downloading the game, I decided to watch all of the released main story segments on youtube (god bless Shel_BB's channel). I got invested right off the bat, and as I watched my faves basically fluctuated every week or every a few days... I remember my first (?? was it actually first? I don't remember anymore) fave being Ace because of course hE'S THE FIRST CHARA OF THE MAIN CAST TO APPEAR... that is, until Leona's first appearance in book 1 it ruined my life. I was like ''ah, there he is. Hot lion guy. He's my fave. Can't wait for his chapter'' I SEE A HOT KEMONOMIMI I PRESS LIKE but after book 1 ending, I was so moved by Riddle's backstory that he also became one of my faves?! DAMN GIRL DECIDE

OKAY SO HERE COMES THE GOOD PART, which is book 2. Nowadays I think that book 2 is in fact not good from a writing perspective, Leona's plan is dumb, Ruggie and Jack never got the closure they deserved, it felt too rushed etc. But I wasn't really thinking about it in a critical way, I was just excited to see new characters and how the story would go (good for me ig?? at least I had a good experience). Anyway, I remember taking an immediate liking to Leona and Ruggie but I was still super neutral about Jack throughout most of the chapter. I remember admiring his sense of justice and willingness to betray his dorm, so he was already getting on my good side. sfgsdkjgs I think the first... spark... was the moment when Jack came into ramshackle to personally wake up Yuu. ''I wanted to make sure you didn't mess everything up by oversleeping'' OKAY LIKE BUT WE JUST MET...? I wondered why he'd go that far for a nobody he just met? Then it occurred to me, could it be that he... CARES.... 😱

I thought him being a tsundere was cute. I always had... a thing for characters that look stoic and edgy but are actually big softies. I blame Lucario from the movie Lucario and the mystery of mew for starting my obsession with canine stoic ''I need no friends'' energy characters when in fact they DO need friends And I was also both amused and surprised that he could transform into a literal wolf?! JKDSJKFGSJK I STARTED TO THINK AAWW THATS CUTE FOR HIM... I love fuzzy animals so this was a bonus for me. And then after Leona's overblot there WAS... THIS SCENE--

Something about Yuu pointing out that Jack genuinely smiled and him going all tsun about it stirred a warm feeling in me... I just thought it was the cutest moment in the game so far. This was the point where I realized Jack is a genuinely sweet and caring character. After book 2 ending he had already ranked a lot higher in my tier list.

But it was only during book 3 that ACTUALLY started my spiral to madness made me realize he was gonna be more than just a character I liked.

I want to clarify that when I was watching the main story, I was self inserting as Yuu the entire time, meaning I was trying to imagine myself in their situation and how I would react if I were in said situation. There wasn't anything of substance directly affecting Yuu in book 1 and 2, but book 3 was when it got a lot personal for me. Right off the bat in book 3, adeuce and Grim got separated from Yuu and were forced to be Azul's slaves alongside a bunch of other... idk 100+ students? (or was it 200?) this was the first time since the prologue that Yuu was completely alone, and it made me feel a pang of dread. I'm not proud to say I was never the most independent person, (must be from neurodivergency + always being the pampered youngest sibling of other 4 older siblings 💀) and being socially awkward, I'd completely freeze in this situation. It's just a very stressful and scary situation to be in. That's why I was immediately relieved when Jack appeared. He refused to help at first but all it took was ONE phrase (either tease him or make him feel pity for you) to convince him.

''You've gotten pretty used to how things work in this school. Can't be helped. I'll tag along with you for a bit.''

He said he would tag along FOR A BIT... AND HE LOYALLY STAYED BY YUU'S SIDE THE ENTIRE TIME, UNTIL THE END OF THE EPISODE. I was SO deeply moved by that, you have no idea. When I was in middle school I had really bad social anxiety, like Idia-level. I was the type of person who had to cling on every possible chance of being helped and escorted around in social situations, and I couldn't vocally ask for help, so I had to wait until an extrovert took pity on me and helped me. Once in a school trip, we had to take a train at the metro station and everyone else seemed to have a magnetic card but not me... I thought I was gonna be left behind so I started to panic real bad and have an anxiety attack, and when I pleaded to my extroverted 'friend' for help, they turned their back on me. It was an awful feeling that still makes me feel helpless every time I remember it. So that's why at first I thought Jack wasn't actually gonna help Yuu, and when he... changed his mind so quickly and decided to tag along, it was a very special moment to me. I thought, ''you have no reason to be helping me but you're doing it anyway.'' Feels like in twst most of the characters have an ulterior motive when helping others, but not Jack. He claims he's not worried about adeuce and grim, but he's too easy to read. He cares, even though he gets no compensation, or any kind of reward for this. It made me feel safe around him, like I could rely on him for everything. This was the first heart arrow.

Every time spent with Jack in book 3 I fell more and more in love with him (even though I wasn't aware of it yet). He's a lot more nuanced here than he was in book 2; he shows more sides of him like his silly puppy side (when he was excited to see that octavinelle was underwater and gushed about it like an excited puppy and then got self conscious and awkward about it STOP HEWASJSGJKGSOOSOCVNSMDOSO CUTE) his caring, worried, nervous sides… He also totally did NOT NEED to accompany Yuu in Mostro Lounge's VIP room since Azul had business with Yuu only, and yet Jack was ALWAYS on their side, like a loyal guard dog. Feeling safe and reassured around a person is EXTREMELY important to me. No matter what happens, Jack is not the type to turn his back on you. If you're nice and genuine with him, he will help you with anything and never let you down, it's what I thought.

AND THEN UH.... THERE WAS THAT ONE SCENE WHEN ADEUCE + GRIM + YUU + JACK HIDE UNDER AZULS TABLE IN THE VIP ROOM... THIS IS A SCENE I THIN K A LOT BECAUSE UH... SQUISHED-UNDER-A-TIGHT-SPACE-TOGETHER-TO-HIDE MAY BE ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES..... AND I CAUGHT MUYSEFL THINKING NOT SO FAMILY-FRIENDLY THOUGHTS LIKE....DOESS THAT MEAN I'M PRESSED AGAINST JACK HERE,,?!??'/? AGAINST HIS BIG, WARM... tibbies... WHERE I CAN FEEL SAFE AND PROTECTED.... ADNW WE HAVE TO STAY QUIET AND VERY STILL SO AZUL DOESN'T CATCH US OOOooooHHHH....... LET ME REMINGD YOU I STILL DIDNT CONSIDER MYSESLF A SIMP FOR JACK BUT MY CHEEKS WERE AFLAME I WAS RED IN THE FACE AND IT GOT ME THINKING '''''''N-NO WAY I DONT LIKE HIM LIKE THAT RIGHT??? (This was the second heart arrow.)

AND THEN AND THEN AAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaAA…… WHENB YUU AND GRIM ARE KICKED OUT OF RAMSHACKLE AND HAVE NOWHERE TO SLEEP AND SINCE ITS LIKE NOVEMBER IT MUST BE COLD AS FUCK OUTSIDE….. THIS IS BY FAR THE SCARIEST SITUATION FOR ME, I LIVE IN A WARM PLACE IF I HAD TO SLEEP OUTSIDE AT A TEMP UNDER 10 DEGREES CELCIUS WITH ONLY A SCHOOL UNIFORM I WOULDNT JUJST ''CATCH A COLD'' ACE TRAPPOLA I WOULD GET HYPOTHERMIA AND FUCKING DIE PROBABLY, GETTING KICKED OUT OF YOUR OWN HOME WITH NO PLACE TO SLEEP? I'D JUST GIVE UP CURL MYSELF INTO A BALL AND CRY……. BUT TJEN BUT THEN JACK LIKE AN ANGEL DESCENDED FROM HEAVEN OFFERED YUU AND GRIM TO TAKE THEM TO SAVANACALW?????????????? AND HE CLAIMS ITS CAUSE EVEN THOUGH HE SAID HE'D HAVE THEIR BACK, HE DIDN'T FEEL LIKE HE ACTUALLY HELPED THEM UNTIL NOW…. AND ACE AND DEUCE AND GRIM ALL SMIRKED AND TEASED HIM ABOUT LIKE ACE'S VOICE TONE IS VERY REMINISCING OF THE TONE SOMEBODY USES WHEN THEY TEASE SOMEONE ELSE ABOUT THEIR CRUSH I FELT IT IN MY BONESSS… LIKE HEY JACK WHY ARE YOU BEING SO NICE TO THEM IF IT DOESN'T BENEFIT YOU… COULD IT BE THAT YOU'RE (GASP) CRUSHING ON THEM…?!?!? YOU KNOW THIS IS THE ENERGY I GOT FROM THIS SCENE AND IF ONLY THIS GAME WAS ROMANCE-INCLINED THATS EXACTLY HOW THIS SCENE WOULD GO I FEEL IITTTTTTTTTTTT DSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAJGNNJNJCFNJBCVÇ;CV;/VC;ÑCV~]DF.ÇHFDMHFDNJDHFJHBNDFJ

……..That was the third heart arrow.

My mind is hazy after this. I don't know what else to say for the climax + ending of book 3, I really enjoyed Azul and the tweel's characters, but my mind was still on Jack and how I came to love him after this. I remember hoping that… we would get to sleep in Jack's room (this was before I realized that all of first years room were a shared 4-person room, I thought only heartslabyul was like this 💀) but I was not disappointed to find out we'd sleep in Leona's room instead 😋 is bonked

While Jack was super high in my tier list at that point, he had to share first place with some others for a while… I downloaded the game in july 2020, but it was only during august that I started to actively post art here on my blog and engage more with the fandom. And during that time I was passing through a octavinelle + scarabia phase which was especially strong during august and september if you follow me ALL THE WAY back then…… congrats soldier my faves fluctuated between Jack, Jade, Floyd, Jamil and Kalim constantly and there was even a time where I considered the Ja-trio (Jade, Jack, Jamil) my favorite characters and couldn't choose between them. So what made me ultimately lean towards Jack? Uh, to sum it up it's because he was the least popular. I was in a somewhat big twst discord server back then and although I'm super grateful to have been part of the server and met wonderful people there who are friends till this day, I also had a few unpleasant experiences. Jade, Floyd and Jamil were super popular in the server I was in, so whenever I tried to talk or gush about them, I was talked over. The server was also yume-friendly but I was still figuring out this whole yume thing and who I'd yume. The more I was talked over and ignored in favor of the louder and more popular tweels/jamil stans in the server (I think there was AT LEAST 5 yumes for each of them...) the more I felt unmotivated to keep gushing for them. Whenever I made art of them, people would immediately tag the popular loud stans to gush other THEIR reaction, and suddenly the conversation was immediately shifted towards them. I know this sort of thing is expected in a big server since people already have their circles but man… It made me a lot insecure to yume them.

But whenever I talked about JACK I was actually listened to, and my opinions were validated. Simply because back then there were little to none Jack stans, so most of them looked up to me as reference for a ''Jack enjoyer/simp''. I started to think how unfair it was that the other characters had plenty of love, plenty of attention already while Jack had almost none. No one hated him but no one quite loved him either to consider him their #1. I was baffled because he's genuinely one of the sweetest characters. I know it sounds silly, but I felt compelled to be his advocate. I WANTED people to see just how sweet he is, how he's more than just a big, uninteresting jock that only talks about working out.

I always sympathized with the odd, with the outcasts, with the ones that weren't chosen because they were not like the majority because they remind me of what I went through as a socially anxious aspie kid (I was never really comfortable revealing my diagnosis online but there you have it, autistic vic reveal lol as if that wasn't obvious before ig) do you know the feeling of being in PE class and the two kids forming groups are choosing who they want for their team and you know you'll be dead last because no one wants you in their team? So you end up in a random team not because someone chose you, but because you were the only one left and they needed to fill the space. They don't necessarily want to kick you out of the team, but they don't want you either. You're indifferent to them. This is how I imagined how Jack must have felt like in the fandom. Always ''he's such a good boy'' ''he's so sweet'' but never someone's favorite. I've lost count of how many self proclaimed ''savanaclaw stans'' I met that are just solely Leona stans who talk 90% of the time about Leona, the other 10% about Ruggie and outright IGNORE Jack.

After getting Jack's first birthday card in the first 10 rolls, I decided, well he's gonna be MY favorite. The other popular characters have enough fans, enough people to make art and writing for them. It wouldn't make a difference if one more fan is added or removed. But for Jack, at least back then, it DID make a difference. Finding people in the eng fandom who would do fanart of him (like just HIM, not him being part of a group like savanaclaw or first years) was so rare. And especially finding accounts or blogs dedicated entirely about him…?? I don't remember seeing any of it. This…erasure, this indifference towards him made me feel even more connected to him. I want to keep supporting him, to keep giving him the love that he deserves.

In these 4 years he's been a massive source of comfort to me, if I feel anxious or stressed I imagine his big, warm hand on my shoulder, on the small of my back, patting my head etc… I imagine him motivating me to work harder, to push myself out of my comfort zone, telling me to stop moping and to get up and try again. I imagine him giving me his tail to hold and pet when I need to keep myself grounded. I imagine his disapproving look when I have dishonest thoughts or think about taking shortcuts.

I don't know how to finish this, but if you read ALL of this congrats and thank you for bearing with me lol it took me almost 4 hours to write this entire bible...... if you DID read all of this, I hope I could, if only a little bit, change your perspective on Jack Howl for the better.

I love Jack Howl.

#twisted wonderland #jack howl #damn I poured my sweat and blood into this and cried about 3 times #EVEN OUTSIDE MY AU AND OUTSIDE FICTION ITS STILL...VERY BEAUTY AND THE BEAST CODED...#ill draw a quick doodle for anyone who reads all of this as compensation/hj (maybe...)#answered ask #wholesome ask

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